


Naming the Doctors

by RosaleenBan



Category: Queer as Folk (UK)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drama, First Time, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-07
Updated: 2014-03-05
Packaged: 2017-12-17 23:01:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/872959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosaleenBan/pseuds/RosaleenBan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Cameron had been better equipped to answer Vince's question at the end of the first series? And what if Vince had been more forgiving and stayed with him? </p><p>This fic takes place immediately after the end of the first series, and only diverges from canon in that Vince never dumps Cameron.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

“It’s like waiting for a kid to tidy his bedroom. I paid for the bloody thing, I’ll take charge of it,” Cameron said through the mobile. It was as though for the first time Vince was actually hearing him.

It wasn’t just yesterday, was it, when he was having lunch with Stuart, talking about his relationship with Cameron. And Stuart had told him, hadn’t he - Stuart Jones, fucking King of Canal Street - had told him to tell Cameron that he was lucky. That Vince was in charge. That Dr. Who - all of them, in order - was good enough, even for Stuart Jones, never mind Cameron Roberts.

And here Cameron was, telling Vince he loved him, then treating him like a child.

“Vince? You still there?” Cameron asked over the mobile, breaking into his contemplation.

Vince could still hear Stuart’s voice in his head. _William Hartnell, Patrick Troughton, Jon Pertwee, Tom Baker, Peter Davison, Colin Baker, Sylvester McCoy._ Vince closed his eyes and saw Stuart’s midnight blue ones. _It was good enough for me._

“How many Dr. Whos can you name?” he asked Cameron impulsively.

“What d’you mean?”

“All the actors who played Dr. Who,” Vince explained. “Name them.”

“I don’t know!”

“Just try,” Vince begged, hoping he had misread everything.

“Well, Jon Pertwee. Tom Baker. Umm…” his voice trailed off.

“Is that it?” Vince asked anxiously.

“What does it matter?”

Vince ignored the question. “Any more?”

“Umm. Sylvester McCoy. Colin Baker,” Cameron went on. “That bloke with the white hair - William Hartnell?”

“That’s it,” Vince said encouragingly.

“And that American bloke from the movie - what was his name?”

“Paul McGann doesn’t count,” Vince said, smiling. Cameron had missed two, and they certainly weren’t in order, but it was a start. “Tell them to keep holding the table. I’ll be there soon as I can.”

He closed his mobile and hopped in the Mini.

And yes, he was in charge. Stuart was right. Another three months, and Cameron would know them all. In order.

Sod growing up. Vince could do dinners for two and still have Dr. Who - still have Stuart. He wasn’t here for marriage and all that shite, not with Cameron, but maybe Cameron and his grown up dating would stick around a while for the ride.

…

Vince closed his eyes, letting himself go to the music. No matter that it was Alex that he was dancing with - he was having fun, and he reveled in it. A night on the town - rare thing, these days, what with Cameron so uncomfortable with Canal Street and all.

But there was no Cameron tonight - just Vince and his mates. Dane was up from London, so of course he and Alex were about. And since Cameron had a dinner meeting, Vince met up with them.

“Vince, look at ya!” Alex called above the music. “Regular shaggin’ must be good for you - you’re bloody gorgeous.”

“Shut up,” Vince laughed, opening his eyes.

“No, I’m serious,” Alex said. “You’re always lovely, but tonight, it’s like you’re the belle of the ball. Look at all of them, lookin’ at ya.”

“Right,” Vince said, still smiling. “Doesn’t matter, though. I’m taken, I am. A proper boyfriend. Me! Who’d have thought!”

“You may be lovely, but Shitface it right - you’re a twat,” Alex laughed.

Vince shook his head at his friend. He wondered if he was serious, of if Alex was taking the piss. He wouldn’t be surprised - he felt brilliant, maybe he looked it too. But it had nothing to do with Cameron - he and Stuart were friends again, in a manner of speaking. At least they weren’t fighting anymore. And Cameron - Cameron could come or go; Stuart would be there, whenever they were over. That’s what Vince had learned from their lunch the other day: Stuart would always be there.

That, and that he, Vince, was in charge. And not just with Cameron. Vince still didn’t know how to handle that.

Vince felt a hand on his hip, pulling him away from Alex.

“Looks like you’ve got an admirer,” Alex said, looking behind Vince.

“Fuck off.” Vince recognized Stuart’s voice. He turned his head in time for Stuart to lean down toward Vince’s ear. “Dance with me.”

“Could do,” Vince said, turning completely to face Stuart.

Stuart pulled him in to dance closer.

“What’s this Stuart?” Vince asked teasingly. “I thought your world was huge.”

Stuart smiled down at him smugly.

Vince looked up at his friend, smiling back silently. Impulsively, he looked toward an empty podium in the middle of the dance floor, then back up to Stuart.

Stuart shook his head, but Vince nodded assertively. Then, almost without warning, Stuart was off, running toward the podium. Vince followed in his wake, fast as he could, and the two jumped onto the podium together.

This time, with Stuart, Vince really let himself go, dancing like an utter twat. It was okay, because Stuart was dancing just as badly. The two of them, in their own world, together. Cameron or no Cameron, boyfriend or no boyfriend, this was where Vince belonged.

He threw back his head and drank in the feeling of Stuart, there, with him. He lost himself to his best friend.


	2. Tuesday

**Tuesday**

Vince sat at his desk, supposedly going over the latest inventories but really just developing a massive headache. Sometimes he wondered how any of his coworkers kept their jobs, what with the level of incompetence in the store.

He took a breath, knowing that wasn’t right. He shouldn’t think of his coworkers like that. Not even when they were driving him to abuse painkillers.

Thankfully, just as he was reaching the end of his patience, his mobile rang, giving him a moment’s reprieve. He picked it up on the first ring without even looking at the LCD.

“Hiya,” he said, knowing who it was instinctively.

“We’re having dinner at Hazel’s tonight,” Stuart informed him.

“Could do,” Vince said.

“Good. When do you get off work?”

“Five,” Vince told him. “But I’ve the Mini. I’ll meet you there. 5:30?”

“Fine,” Stuart all but spat into the phone, clearly annoyed. Before Vince could answer, he had hung up.

Vince shook his head and dialed Cameron. If they were going to make a meal of it, he ought to invite the boyfriend along as well. It wouldn’t do to leave him home alone, Vince reminded himself.

…

It was nearly six when Vince, seated in the kitchen with Hazel and Cameron, heard Stuart’s jeep pull up.

“Just like him to be late,” Cameron said off-handedly. “Wasn’t he the one to make the plans?”

“He’s not that late,” Vince defended his friend immediately.

“It’s been almost half an hour, and he’s still not here,” Cameron pointed out. “Weren’t you two not talking?”

“We made up,” Vince told him simply. “And he’s here now. Listen, that’s his jeep outside.”

Cameron raised an eyebrow skeptically. Vince didn’t see why he wouldn’t believe Vince knew the sound of the Jeep; after all, hadn’t he been driving it half the time since Stuart first got the original, the one that had been destroyed the night Alfie was born?

“What happened?” Cameron sneered, oblivious to the sounds of Stuart walking in the door. “Did the bastard finally call and apologize?”

“Actually, he called me,” Stuart said from behind Cameron.

Vince choked on a laugh as he watched Cameron’s eyes bulge in surprise. Hazel didn’t even try; she cackled like a mad woman.

Stuart sat down beside Vince, close enough for their legs to touch under the table. “What’s he doing here?” he asked snidely.

“Stuart, behave. I invited Cameron.”

“Oh, yeah,” Stuart said, his face a mask of disgust. “I forgot you have to think of the *boyfriend.*”

“Not like you’d know anything about a normal human relationship, would you?” Cameron asked.

“Both of you, stop it now before I have both your bollocks,” Hazel warned. “I’ll not have that in my kitchen. At least not until after we eat. The entertainment should come after dinner, yeah?”

“Mum!” Vince moaned. This was a mistake. He wasn’t sure why he thought it would be a good idea to have a meal with Stuart and Cameron at the same table. The two of them - like little boys in a pissing contest. And Hazel didn’t help.

“It’s alright,” Stuart said, slipping into a seat next to Vince. “He’s just a bit grouchy. Comes with the age.”

Cameron opened his mouth to retort, but Vince gave him a warning look not to rise to the bait. He smartly closed his mouth, but put an arm around Vince territorially, which made Stuart glare - until Vince rolled his eyes at the overtly possessive gesture. Then Stuart just smirked, almost conspiratorially.

Yeah, this was a mistake, but he could deal with it, Vince decided. He carefully extracted himself from Cameron’s hold to help Hazel with the table. When he looked back, he saw both Stuart and Cameron smirking, each thinking they won, and probably thinking the other an idiot for thinking otherwise. Vince rolled his eyes again, this time with his back to both of them.

…

“What’s he coming along for?” Stuart asked lowly as the three of them – Stuart, Vince and Cameron – walked into the New Union together.

“He’s just having drinks with us,” Vince told him, his voice just as low. “He is my boyfriend, after all. Do ya think you could try to get along with him? Please?”

“Yeah, alright,” Stuart said. “Except he’s a twat. And old.”

“He is not,” Vince protested. He turned to Cameron. “I’ll get the drinks. You grab us a seat, yeah?”

“Sure,” the Australian said, walking off toward the booths. Stuart, of course, walked with Vince to the bar.

“You can’t just hate him forever,” Vince told Stuart after they’d ordered they’re drinks.

“Well, I hope I don’t have to,” Stuart retorted.

“Stuart,” Vince said warningly. He wondered how long he could get away with this tough guy business with Stuart – after all, at lunch the other day, he had made himself so clear. But Vince wasn’t certain if even he knew what he meant by it all.

“Fine,” Stuart said. He picked up his and Vince’s vodka and orange, leaving Vince to grab Cameron’s pint. “But you owe me.”

“Course, Stuart.”

“And don’t think I won’t collect.”

Vince shook his head. “You always do,” he said wryly.

They sat down at the booth Cameron had picked out, Stuart on one side and Vince and Cameron on the other. Vince was looking for a safe enough topic to have them all talking when Alex appeared as if out of nowhere and threw himself down beside Stuart. “Oh my God, I’ve been looking for you lot,” he said, looking directly at Stuart as he spoke. “Have you heard the news?”

“Would you believe us if we said yes?” Stuart asked.

Alex gave him an evil look, then jumped into his story. “Well, I was out this afternoon at lunch with Andy, the DJ from Roxy – the cute blond, not the short one. We’re meeting tonight after his shift, by the way. Boyfriend material, that one. Anyway, that kid Daz was sitting near us, talking about the chicken. It seems little Nathan’s gone and run away. Clear gone, from what Daz said – took his father’s cards and ran to London.”

Stuart rolled his eyes. “And why do we care?”

Alex slapped his arm. “Well you should care. It’s your fault isn’t it?”

“It’s not my fault he’s a twat,” Stuart said. “I never told him to go to London, did I?”

“No, but you had to play King of Canal Street, didn’t you?” Alex argued. “You went and told him there was a whole great world out there, and now he’s gone off to find it.”

“Good for him,” Stuart said. “At least he’s going out and fucking doing something – instead of most of the fucking wankers around here. Let him have his adventure.”

Predictably, Cameron rolled his eyes. “That’s mature,” he said sarcastically.

“I’m just young enough to still know a good time when I hear it,” Stuart retorted.

Vince shook his head. He couldn’t even say anything to Stuart – this was good behavior for him. Instead he turned to Cameron, “Just try to be nice, yeah?” he asked.

Cameron frowned, then leaned in to kiss Vince.

Vince pulled away, seeing the kiss for the territorial bullshit it was. “Please?” he asked.

He could see the fight go out of Cameron as he said, “Yeah. Could do.” For a moment he looked old and worn; Vince wondered if this is what Stuart saw every time he saw him.

Vince pushed the thought out of his mind and turned his attention back to Alex. “Did you hear any more than that?”

They listened to Alex go on about Nathan’s parents, though of course Stuart had already told him that whole story, and about the speculations some people on the street had about the boy’s disappearance. They were just about to order their second round when Cameron sat up and stretched.

“I’m off,” the older man said. “You coming, Vince?”

“Where to?” Alex asked. “The night’s still young – we’re going dancing tonight, aren’t we?”

“Not me,” Cameron said. “I’m a bit tired. Think I’ll head home early.” He looked at Vince expectantly.

But Vince shook his head. “Nah – I think I’ll stay out a while. Haven’t been dancing in ages. Well – except last night, but still. I think I could do with another night at Babylon. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Course,” Cameron said, leaning down to kiss Vince. Vince kissed back chastely before pulling away. “See you tomorrow.”

Miraculously, Stuart waited until Cameron was out the door to make a remark. “Old man can’t keep up, Vince?” he asked snidely.

“He’s just tired,” Vince said.

“Exactly,” Stuart shot back. “Come on, I want to dance.”

He stood up and grabbed Vince’s hand, dragging him out of his seat.

“Yeah, nothing like a night out without the ball and shackle, right Vince?” Alex asked.

Vince laughed at his friends’ enthusiasm. “Yeah, let’s dance,” he said, allowing Stuart to lead him by the hand to the door.

Surprisingly, Stuart held his hand the whole way to Babylon, only letting go long enough for them to put on and take off their coats. He was laughing and smiling like a mong the whole time; like they were kids again. Vince wasn’t used to his friend’s physical affection, but it felt natural enough not to question. Besides, it wasn’t like holding hands could in any way constitute cheating, even if it would piss Cameron off to no end.

Almost as soon as they entered the bar, Alex saw Dane dancing with a pale young man in black, almost as dour looking as their friend. Vince tried to hide a smile as Alex scowled.

“Oi, look at that, isn’t he lovely?” Alex asked loudly, pointing to a hot prospect dancing not three feet in front of Dane. “I think I’ll have him. Excuse me.”

Vince rolled his eyes as Alex made his way through the gyrating mass on the dance floor.

“Dance with me?” Stuart asked, pulling his attention away from Alex and Dane.

Vince smiled at his friend and nodded before following him onto the dance floor.

The two of them found a spot in the middle of the floor and began to dance, much closer than they usually did. Every time Vince started to pull away, Stuart was pulling him in with a hand on his hip or an arm on his shoulder. After a few minutes, Vince decided to just go with it. After all, wasn’t this a treat he craved every time they went out, but only got on rare occasions, and only when Stuart was drunk and high? And now Stuart was relatively sober; he would be an idiot not to take advantage of the moment.

So he pressed back against his friend testing the limits of his mood. But Stuart didn’t pull away or take the piss. He just pulled Vince in closer, dancing against him to the primal beat of the club music. It was almost surreal to feel Stuart’s cheek warm against the side of his face.

Vince shook his head and asked, “What are you like?”

“Want to find out, Vince?” Stuart asked. Then he bent his head down and pressed his lips to Vince’s. At first the kiss was chaste, but then Stuart’s tongue pressed into Vince’s mouth insistently. Vince met it with his own, feeling the heat of his friend, reveling in the passion.

He let his body melt into Stuart’s, loosing himself to him, to the kiss, to the music. Stuart had never kissed him like this. It was unlike anything he ever felt before – with any of his shags, his old boyfriends, or even Cameron, who told him that he loved him

Cameron, his current boyfriend, who would be hurt beyond words if Vince gave into the promises of Stuart’s kiss. Fuck, he would be hurt just knowing the two of them kissed.

Vince pulled away from Stuart urgently, if reluctantly.

Stuart was clearly unprepared, because he almost lost his balance as Vince moved away. “Vince – what?”

“What are you doing, Stuart?” Vince asked, not half confused. “Cameron –”

“Fuck bloody Cameron, Vince!”

 _That’s the problem,_ Vince thought. “I’m not – just, no. I’ve got to go, alright?”

He didn’t even take the time to make an excuse. He just turned and hurried out of the club, not wanting to hear Stuart’s arguments, knowing he was likely to give into any one of them.

He was glad he had the Mini, because he knew Stuart was following him. The doorman almost stopped him as he left the club, telling him to wait for his friend. It was all he could do to get away and down the Street into his car before Stuart caught up with him.

Starting the ignition, he sighed. He hoped this wouldn’t lead to another fight – he’d had enough of fighting with Stuart in the past few weeks. Hopefully he could pull off damage control tomorrow.


	3. Wednesday Afternoon

**Wednesday Afternoon**

Apparently, damage control wasn’t as imminent as Vince thought. He didn’t even have to search out a moody and pouting Stuart.

Instead, Stuart found him. Just before one, Stuart showed up at the store, dressed in a smart charcoal suit with a purple shirt and his red AIDS awareness ribbon pin – just the kind of thing that would let every customer and employee know he was gay on sight. Vince saw him from the office windows above the floor as soon as he sashayed in.

Vince rushed downstairs to meet his mate, but not before Stuart could get himself into trouble. When he got downstairs, he found Stuart already talking to Alicia, one of the new girls who just started last week.

“Oh, I don’t know where Mr. Tyler is just now,” the girl was telling Stuart. “I can go find him for you.”

“Just tell me where his office is,” Stuart told her. “I’ll find him.”

Vince could see the worry in Alicia’s posture. “I’m not sure – I mean, customers aren’t supposed to – ”

“’S alright,” Vince said, startling her. “I’m right here.”

“Oh, Mr. Tyler,” Alicia sighed with relief, turning toward him, “Mr. Jones here was just looking for you. He wanted to talk to you about –” she turned back to Stuart. “Well, what did you want to talk to him about?”

Stuart smirked. “I’ve a complaint to make to management about the cowards they employ.”

Vince rolled his eyes. “Stuart, can’t you see I’m at work?”

“Fuck work. You abandoned me last night,” Stuart said. Then, he uncharacteristically put a hand on the back of Vince’ neck affectionately. “I bet you haven’t eaten all day at this shite place. We’re going to lunch.”

Vince couldn’t argue, as he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. “Could do,” he said. “Let me get my coat.” He turned to the shop girl, “Alicia, thank you for keeping him occupied. I couldn’t imagine what kind of trouble he’s have gotten himself into otherwise.”

“Sorry, Mr. Tyler,” Alicia said. “I didn’t realize I was talking to your boyfriend.”

“He’s not,” Vince told her. “Stuart’s just my mate – nothing to worry about.”

Alicia looked skeptical, but nodded, then she scurried off to whatever work she had to do. Vince shook his head and turned toward the office.

“Trouble?” Stuart asked, following Vince up. “What kind of trouble could I possible get into? I’m lovely, all of me.”

Vince laughed. “I was just taking the piss – trying to make Alicia feel a bit less awkward.”

“Fuck her. If she doesn’t like queers –”

“It’s not that,” Vince interrupted before Stuart could start a tirade. “She has a girlfriend herself, from what I hear. But she’s new, and you know how it is when you’re new at your first job – everything terrifies you. Well, it did me at any rate. You – you’ve never been terrified of anything, have you? Anyroad, you can be quite intimidating when you just walk in demanding to know where a bloke is by name, without so much as a please – or even an understandable reason. It’s not like she’s seen you in here before, like everyone else.”

He opened the office door, and Stuart followed him inside to collect his things.

Stuart leaned on the large hardwood desk as he watched Vince. “Ever shag on this desk, Vinnie?” he asked.

Vince rolled his eyes. “There are cameras everywhere, even in the offices,” he told Stuart. “And who would I find to come up to my office and shag? One of the stock boys? That’s sexual harassment.”

“It’s only harassment if it’s unwanted,” Stuart argued.

“If you’re straight, maybe,” Vince countered.

“I don’t know why you stay at this place anyway,” Stuart said, pushing himself off the desk and stalking down the hall to the building exit. Vince, his jacket still only half on, had to rush to follow him. “You’re wasting yourself here. Why don’t you just bin the job?”

“And do what?” Vince asked. “I have to support myself somehow. And what about Hazel and Bernie and Alex? They depend on me, you know. I’m the one paying the mortgage every other month – and giving Alex a place to stay every time he needs one. What would they do if I were out of a job?”

“I’ll pay off the mortgage.”

“Thanks but no,” Vince said. “Me ’n Hazel are doing fine, thanks.”

“Get a new job,” Stuart told him, a bit more angrily. Vince was glad that they were out of the building and climbing into the jeep by now. “Somewhere where they don’t have to watch you at all hours – where the queers aren’t so terrifying.”

“Doing what? Who but another supermarket is going to hire me, without a Uni degree, and all my experience in retail?” He sighed and leaned back in his seat.

“I could help you,” Stuart told him, his tone a bit softer. “I’m in advert and all, aren’t I? Don’t you think I could market you as well?”

“’Sokay, Stuart. I’m happy where I am,” Vince lied. “Where are we going, then?”

“Thought we could do Italian,” Stuart said. “There’s a new place on King Street – thought we could try it out before I bring any clients there.”

“You paying, then?” Vince asked.

“Thrive’s paying,” Stuart told him.

Stuart pulled up to a very posh restaurant, already full with the afternoon rush. Of course, Sandra had thought ahead and made reservations, so they didn’t have to wait.

“This is nice,” Vince said, looking around as they followed the host to their table. “I like the chandeliers; I think the silver was a great choice – real classy, you know. Well, the whole place – I love the blue and silver they used. So much nicer than gold, don’t you think?”

“Vince, sit down,” Stuart said as they got to their table.

“Well I was just saying. I think your clients will like this place.”

“We haven’t even tried the food yet, ya twat,” Stuart reminded him.

“I guess we’d better get to it then,” Vince said, opening his menu. There were no prices listed beside any of the choices. “Thrive’s paying, yeah?”

Stuart smiled at him. “Sad bastard. That’s what I said isn’t it?”

…

Stuart only glanced over the menu; he already knew what he wanted. Truth be told, he already knew what Vince wanted, even though his best friend was still going through the menu – not that he would admit that to anyone, even Vince.

“I think I want the shrimp scampi,” Vince said, predictably. “Maybe start with the bruschetta?”

Stuart suppressed a smile as he caught their waiter’s attention. He was pleased to see the man was anything but ordinary looking, with chin length blond hair and blue eyes. He looked a lot like Nathan might in a few years – all toned and tanned, but still lean and boyish. He was just the type Stuart was used to shagging in restaurant restrooms – and by the look of things, he was definitely interested.

Stuart glanced at Vince and knew that he saw the same thing. Stuart could almost see the moment of resignation in Vince’s eyes, when he not only saw the waiter, but saw Stuart _with_ the waiter, probably just between the appetizer and the main course.

Stuart frowned. No, that wouldn’t happen this afternoon – after all, wasn’t it shite like that sent Vince into the arms of that bastard, Cameron? No, he’d just have to exhibit a bit of self-restraint.

This time Stuart didn’t suppress his smile – or smirk, actually. Stuart Jones, exhibiting self-restraint from shagging, and the sad bastard probably wouldn’t even realize it was for him.

Stuart managed to order his food without so much as eying the waiter – for all he knew, the pair at the table could have been straight.

Or, rather, could have been boyfriends. No one – especially not a gay man – would ever mistake Stuart for straight. His parents were the sole possessors of that particular delusion.

“Nice,” Vince said, as soon as the waiter left.

“Yeah,” Stuart said halfheartedly.

Vince frowned at him, confused. “Had him already?”

“No,” Stuart told him. “He’s just not what I’m after.”

Vince’s face was incredulous. “Adonis himself is waiting on our table, and he’s not what you’re after? What’s wrong, Stuart? Are you ill? Have you been to the doctor, Stuart? Is there something you’ve been hiding – oh my God.” Vince’s voice suddenly switched from teasing to hysteria. “That’s it, isn’t it? That’s why you’ve taken me out to such a posh restaurant – it’s not for your clients is it? You wanted to tell me – ”

Stuart laughed at the sound of panic in his friend’s voice. “No, I’m not ill,” he said, interrupting Vince’s twittering. “I was just at the doctor’s, and he gave me a clean bill of health – not all he gave me either.”

“I’m sure,” Vince said, though the spark in his eyes betrayed his dour tone. Stuart could see his friend’s fear dissipate as Vince’s shoulders relaxed. “So what’s wrong then? I’ve never known you to give up on a guy like that without even trying.”

“I told you, Vince. He’s not what I’m after.”

Vince looked around the restaurant, filled as it was with straight couples and business people meeting through lunch. “Who, then? I didn’t see anyone else who caught my eye.”

 _That’s because you’re a blind fucking twat,_ Stuart thought. “Never mind,” he said aloud, then changed the subject. “Romy called this morning. She wants me to take Alfie for the weekend – something about her and that cunt Lisa going out to some queer solicitor's convention or something.”

“Which means you want me to take Alfie for the weekend,” Vince said, clearly thinking that he had Stuart’s game figured out.

“Not exactly,” Stuart said, surprising his friend. “I thought maybe you could stay at mine. I don’t know shite about babies, and you help Romy with him all the time. You could help me out.”

It was amazing how clear Vince’s emotions were broadcasted on his face. Stuart could see the surprise, and the utter glee reflected back at him as Vince’s features relaxed. “Yeah, could do,” Vince said. “I’ll have to tell Cameron – I think we have plans with his friends this weekend, but I can cancel for Alfie.”

“Romy would kill you if you didn’t,” Stuart told him. “You know, she’s thinking Alfie should call you papa?”

“You’re his da, Stu,” Vince tried to placate him – again, misreading everything that came out of Stuart’s mouth.

“And that’s what he’ll call me. Daddy Stuart and Papa Vince. I think it’s a good idea,” Stuart told him. He took a chance and put a hand on Vince’s arm. “Alfie should know who his other da is.”

He was rewarded by a blinding smile from Vince. “Really? You think so?”

“Course, ya twat. After all, you’re in charge of nappies all weekend,” he said, ruining any lesbian _moment_ they might have been having. He didn’t move his hand from Vince’s arm though, not until their meals came and he needed to move to eat.

It was bloody frustrating, though. It seemed as though Vince was trying to drive him to wit’s end. All through lunch, the twat was either avoiding him or ignoring him. Stuart put his hand on Vince’s arm, and Vince ignored it. Stuart flirted openly, giving Vince his “come fuck me” stare, and Vince laughed it off. Stuart tried a last ditch effort of running his foot – sans shoe – up Vince’s leg, and Vince made a comment about not being the table leg. At every turn, Vince was cutting him off from any type of flirting.

And then, to make matters worse, he had to talk about the _boyfriend._

“You know, it’s not all dinner for two,” Vince told him. “Tonight, we’re going out with Cameron’s friends – it’s only fair, I suppose, since he goes out to the pub so much with us. Anyroad, the one’s an architect – he designs those posh new office buildings like the ones they’re putting up downtown. And the other’s a journalist. He just finished a book on homophobia, I think. I don’t know what I’m going to have to say around them.”

“You’ve never been at a loss for words before with your twittering,” Stuart snarked.

“Right,” Vince said dismissively – that was far from the worst insult Stuart could come up with. “But they’re such interesting people, I’m sure I’ll sound like a right twat. After all, what am I going to do around a lot of professionals? Tell supermarket stories?”

 _It was good enough for me,_ Stuart’s own words echoed in his head.

“I’m sure your stories are much more interesting than anything they have to tell,” Stuart told him. “Bunch of idiots, I’m sure. I’m a professional – you don’t see me off at fancy dinner parties thinking I’m better than anyone.”

“That’s a laugh. You think you’re better than everyone,” Vince reminded him.

“But I don’t have to go off to any boring parties to prove it.”

“That’s different. You’re Stuart.”

“Yeah – I’m not _boring,”_ Stuart told him, emphasizing the last word. “You’re fantastic, Vince, and don’t let those twats intimidate you.” He looked at the table, realizing they were already done with lunch. “Let’s get out of here,” he said, gesturing for the waiter.

“You’re really not going to have him?” Vince asked as the waiter very nearly swaggered away with Stuart’s company card.

“Do you really think I should?” Stuart teased.

“Well, I don’t know. I’m off the market after all, and someone’s gotta pick up that slack,” Vince teased back.

Stuart laughed despite himself. “Not today, Vinnie.”

Vince just shook his head in amazement. “Alright, Stuart – but you’ve still got to tell me why. And I have all weekend to get it out of you.”

 _Blind fucking twat,_ Stuart thought again.


	4. Wednesday Evening

**Wednesday Evening**

Four hours of work and a long walk home from Harlo’s later, Vince still couldn’t figure out what Stuart was up to at lunch.

It wasn’t unheard of for Stuart to take Vince out to posh restaurants, especially the new ones he wanted to try out before he took his clients. That was all part of his business. But today Stuart had been acting odd.

Vince sat in his living room, the Doctor playing in the VCR, thinking it over. He picked up K-9’s remote control idly and sent the little robot around the room, scanning everything in sight. Often, lately, he found himself playing with K-9 when he was thinking about Stuart, especially before they made up from the debacle that was his birthday party.

It wasn’t just that Stuart wasn’t shagging the waiter. Sure, shagging was usual Stuart, but there had been times in the past – few and far between – when Stuart declined a shag, even from a good looking bloke like the waiter. But that usually only happened when Stuart was upset about something – and he wasn’t upset at all today. Which was odd in and of itself, after Vince swanning off last night.

And then there were the other things, like Stuart being so affectionate – even bordering on flirting. He wasn’t usually so tactile, and though Vince rather liked it, he wasn’t sure what the meaning behind it was. With Stuart, mysteries were never a good thing.

Vince sent K-9 zooming around the coffee table and between the sofas. He wished he could get the little dog to go into the kitchen and fetch him a stiff drink, but instead he wove it around the furniture, careful not to hit it on anything.

Then, of course, there was last night at Babylon to think about. He really didn’t even want to get into that one. He had avoided it last night with a good strong glass of whiskey before passing out in his bed. Now he couldn’t help but to think of it. Stuart, dancing with him like that, like he did with his shags. Then snogging Vince. It was mental. And there was no telling where it would have gone if Vince had allowed it to go on.

It was hard not to come to the conclusion that had been nagging at him since lunch at Manto’s.

_It was good enough for me._

Good enough for him, yeah, what with him out shagging all the time, and Vince always going home lonely. That was what Stuart did. He shagged, and he slept alone, and he liked them both.

Vince – well, Vince like sharing the bed with his shag, even if it was just a one off, and even cuddling through the afterglow on occasion. He liked at least the illusion of something more. And he rather liked having something more with Cameron, even if the accountant wasn’t his first choice.

But hadn’t he heard somewhere that settling down is always settling? And maybe it’s better to settle for someone than never to settle down at all. At least, for a bloke like Vince it was.

Because a bloke like Stuart just didn’t do boyfriends. And, much as it pained him to admit it, that _wasn’t_ good enough for Vince. Not anymore – if, really, it ever had been.

He sighed, sending K-9 around the perimeter of the room, by the shelves. He was such a twat, he thought, not sure if he was referring to himself or Stuart. They both were, he guessed, in their own way. One too in need of love, and one too scared of it.

And then there was Cameron.

There was a knock at the door –it was almost assuredly Cameron, early for dinner. And Vince wasn’t even dressed yet.

Vince didn’t make a move to get up. The flat door was unlocked, and Cam would let himself in before Vince made it halfway across the apartment. Vince wondered if the older man knew how much like Stuart he could act sometimes.

As predicted, Cameron walked into the flat a moment later. He came up to the couch and kissed Vince soundly before surveying the room.

“Are you really playing with that?” he asked, looking at K-9.

“Course,” Vince told him. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Well aren’t you a bit old?” Cameron asked. “And besides, that’s an expensive replica. Don’t you think it should be for display only?”

“I’m not that old,” Vince protested. “And besides, what’s the fun in having a toy just like this just to look at?”

Stuart would have never even suggested it be kept for display only, but Vince didn’t mention that. No use starting trouble needlessly.

Cameron, still standing, smiled down at him indulgently. “You’re right. But right now, you should be dressing for dinner, don’t you think?”

Vince looked at the clock and realized he was probably right. “Yeah, think so.”

He turned off the telly and VCR, then stood up to put K-9 back on the shelf before heading to the bedroom. When he did, he realized Cameron was shadowing him.

“Can I help?” Cameron asked lewdly.

Vince laughed, but grabbed Cameron’s hand and pulled him into the bedroom with him.

…

Vince felt suffocated by the posh, expensive house and the two stuffy men who lived there. This afternoon he had been excited and nervous that he wouldn’t be interesting enough to keep up with them. Now he just felt bored.

Thomas, the architect, was going on about how they spent their last six months in Ireland, where he was working on a new office building in Dublin, while Christian, the journalist, was working on his new book. At first, Vince had been interested in that, but not now after hearing a half hour description of his dissertation on homophobia in British corporate culture. If the man’s writing was half as long-winded and pompous as his conversation, the book would never sell a single copy.

“What was the scene like there?” Vince asked when Thomas finished his description of modern Irish architecture.

“Sorry?” Thomas asked.

“What were the clubs like? And the talent?” Vince asked. “I know when I was there, the Irish accents on all of them drove me mad. I’d never been so interested in copping off with so many men in my life.”

“We don’t really go to clubs,” Christian told him. “And as for the ‘talent’ – well, isn’t it talk like that that perpetuates so many gay stereotypes? Thomas and I are a committed couple; straight couples don’t go out cruising together. Why should we?”

“You’ve been in Ireland before, Vince?” Cameron asked before Vince could respond. “You never told me about that.”

“Never came up, did it?” Vince pointed out, glad to avoid a debate with the journalist. “Stuart and I went, just after he graduated from Uni. It was his parent’s graduation gift. Of course, I think they were pushing him to come home with a nice Irish girl.”

“Was Stuart your boyfriend back then?” Thomas asked, probably noting the distasteful look on Cameron’s face.

“No, Stuart’s my best mate. We’ve been friends since we were just lads.”

“Yeah, Stuart doesn’t do boyfriends,” Cameron added. “Stuart shags.”

Vince caught Christian’s disapproving look before he could replace it with a placid grin.

“I don’t blame him, with the talent – or, men – he pulls. Besides, it’s what he likes,” Vince said, not sure if he was defending or apologizing for his friend, but not particularly comfortable with either. “Though, really, I think it’s just that he always ends up with great shags. Me, all the blokes I get are right mad. Except maybe Cameron – though who’s to say? It’s early days yet.”

“Well, that’s charming,” Thomas said, not sounding at all charmed. “Oh, look. We’re out of wine. Christian, would you mind helping me pick out another bottle?”

Vince frowned as he watched the two walk into the kitchen.

“It’s just not their thing,” Cameron explained soothingly when they were out of earshot, rubbing one hand over Vince’s upper arm. “The shagging, the clubs – the whole scene. They never do that kind of thing, not in years.”

“Well, they don’t have to act so superior,” Vince said. “I’m not dumb, you know – I can tell they think I’m an idiot.”

“It is all a bit juvenile, isn’t it?” Cameron countered. “Kid stuff compared to the steady relationship, the house together, the vacations and dinners for two – all that.”

“That’s not true,” Vince said. “Not everyone wants dinners for two all the time, you know.”

Before Cameron could answer, their hosts came back with a new bottle of wine.

“So, Cameron, have you heard from your brother down in Sydney lately?” Christian asked as Thomas poured the wine.

Vince sat back and listened as the three conversed about mutual friends and acquaintances. It was clear that neither Thomas nor Christian was interested in anything Vince had to say, and he had to admit the feeling was mutual.

Usually, he got on with everyone, but it seemed he had found an exception to that rule. He was amazed that Cameron would actually defend the two of them for what seemed to him outright rudeness.

Fortunately for him, his best mate was a bastard. Not ten minutes later, his phone rang.

“Sorry, I have to take this,” he said, standing up rushing out of the room before Cameron could protest.

He could hear Cameron telling the other couple about Stuart calling on their first date in the other room, but he didn’t care.

“Hiya.”

“How’s the couple’s night?” Stuart asked.

Vince sighed. “Twilight,” he said simply.

He could head Stuart’s laughter on the other side. “Come on, it can’t be that bad. It’s not like they’re straights.”

“They might as well be,” Vince told him. “Much more boring than any straight couple I know.”

“Do you even know any straight couples?” Stuart asked.

“Shut up, I’m serious,” Vince said. “And yes, I do. Just because you don’t have any straight friends doesn’t mean I don’t.”

“Right,” Stuart said. “Where are you?”

Vince gave the address. “What should I tell them?”

“How the fuck should I know?” Stuart asked. “You’re the one who’s so good at pulling runners, aren’t you?”

“Fuck off.”

“Tell them I have Alfie, and I need your help. That should be enough to placate the old man – let him think I’m completely incapable of taking care of my own son.”

“He’s not that old,” Vince argued half-heartedly.

“Right. I’ll be there in a couple of minutes. Be outside. I’m not knocking.”

As usual, there was no ‘good bye’ from Stuart – just the click of him hanging up.

“Sorry, I’ve got to go,” Vince said, walking back into the living room.

“What’s wrong?” Cameron asked.

“It was Stuart – the mong got Alfie for the night, and never told me. He’s completely incapable of taking care of him alone – well, that’s not quite true, but he is quite nervous when he’s alone with the lad. It’s quite adorable, he always thinks he’s going to fuck the boy up somehow.”

“As if being his father weren’t enough,” Cameron interjected.

“Behave,” Vince shot back. “Anyway, he needs me there to make sure everything’s okay. Don’t worry, though – he’s coming over here to pick me up. Sorry Thomas, Christian. Thanks so much for dinner.”

“Sorry you have to leave,” Christian said politely, standing up and walking to the closet. “Let me get you your coat.”

“Ta,” Vince said.

“I’ll walk you out,” Cameron told him, taking the coat from Christian and helping Vince into it.

When they were in the hall, Cameron asked, “Is he really that inept?”

“Not at all,” Vince told him. “Or at least, I don’t think he is. He just isn’t comfortable with a baby yet, and he thinks he needs my help.”

“Well, isn’t it about time he try it on his own?” Cameron asked.

“Be nice, Cam,” Vince implored. “Besides, I’m not sure out hosts will really miss me.”

“I’ll miss you, though,” Cameron pouted. It was actually pretty adorable, but not enough to make Vince change his mind.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, alright? And dinner tomorrow? Just the two of us, yeah?”

“All right,” Cameron conceded. He opened the front door, but Vince stopped him from going through it with a gentle hand on his chest.

“It’s probably best if you don’t wait out there with me. I don’t want to put up with Stuart’s mood all night,” he lied blithely, knowing that Stuart was quite chuffed to get him out of Cameron’s hands for the night; he would probably just smirk at the older man if he saw him out there with Vince. Vince kissed his lover soundly. “I’ll call you.”

“Love you,” Cameron said.

“Bye,” Vince said, deliberately not repeating the words back to him. He walked outside and closed the door, just in time to see Stuart pull up to the front of the house.

“So where to?” Stuart asked as Vince climbed into the jeep.

“I think I could do with a drink,” Vince told him. “It’s early still. Via Fosse is probably just getting crowded.”


	5. Wednesday Evening (Continued)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one came out rather quickly, it being the weekend and all, but I can't promise daily updates like this, especially with Sabriel week this week. Hopefully weekly? Or more?
> 
> Also, I really love dialog, so that's just about all this is. Enjoy!

**Wednesday Evening (Continued)**

Vince saw Hazel and Alex sitting at a table as soon as they walked into Via Fosse.

“What do you want from the bar?” Stuart asked, seeing them, too, and knowing Vince wanted to go say hello. He could be nice when he wanted to – not that anyone but Vince noticed.

“G&T, ta,” Vince told him with a smile. He walked up to the table and sat down beside his mother. “Hiya.”

“Hello!” Hazel said, already a bit tipsy, it seemed. She’d be in front of the crowd, singing like a mong again tonight if no one stopped her. Alex would probably encourage it. “Didn’t think you’d be here tonight – thought it was date night with Cameron.”

“Yeah, where’s the boyfriend? And his friends – weren’t you supposed to be going out with new blokes or something? Couple’s night, wasn’t it?”

“Well, it was,” Vince said slowly.

“Oh it’s true!” Alex laughed. “Just like you said – he’s gone and abandoned us! Gone straight now! Left us for the grown up couples’ life!”

“But he’s here now,” Hazel pointed out playfully. “And I think I’d like to know why.”

“Vince blew them off,” Stuart said proudly, sitting next to Vince and putting his drink in front of him.

“It’s not like that,” Vince protested. Caught under Stuart’s knowing grin, he amended, “Well not really. It was awful there, and I stayed through all of dinner – I did! But then when Stuart called, I made up an excuse to leave and asked him to pick me up.”

“Vince Tyler,” Hazel said sternly, “That’s not like you. And that’s certainly not how I raised you!”

“They were boring, Mum,” Vince told her. “And rude. They acted like I was a child just cause I go out and have fun every now and again.”

“Every now and again?” Alex asked, though he was clearly amused.

“They talked like Canal Street is the entire problem with gay men today,” Vince continued. “Went on about homosexual theory – like we’re some new species to be studied. It was mad!”

“They sound like twats,” Stuart said.

“They can fuck off, is what they can do,” Hazel agreed.

“You’re right though, Alex. It was like hanging out with a straight couple,” Vince said. “They talked like it was their responsibility to set a good example for all the queers on the Street.”

“Maybe we don’t want a good example,” Alex said.

“Maybe they should be following my example, yeah, Vinnie?” Stuart suggested cockily.

“Come off it – no one can follow your example,” Alex said with a laugh. His eyes suddenly lit up. “Oi, I haven’t told you, have I?”

“Told me what?” Vince asked.

“Alexander Savage has an engagement next Tuesday. At Nebula, the new bar just across the street from Babylon. They’re having a drag revue, and I’m in it!”

“He’s been talking about it all night,” Hazel told the boys.

“That’s fantastic,” Vince said, genuinely happy for his friend.

“You’ll be there, won’t you? And you too, Stuart?”

“Course,” Vince said.

“And waste a night watching a bunch of queers dress up like birds?” Stuart asked.

“Come on Stuart, it’s not like anyone will judge you for going there. The whole Street knows you’re friends with Alex,” Vince turned to Stuart and said soothingly. He took a chance and put a hand on Stuart’s knee.

“Alright,” Stuart said begrudgingly. “I’ll come.” Vince didn’t know why Stuart put on such a show about not wanting to go; hadn’t Alex played the queen at Stuart’s flat for Vince’s birthday? And hadn’t Stuart loved it?

“Fab!” Alex said. “Now, I need to figure out what I’m going to wear. What do you think, Vinnie?”

“I’m not the one to ask,” Vince said. “Hazel would be better for advice.”

“Oh, you’re no fun,” Alex pouted.

“Sorry,” Vince said. He looked to Stuart, who seemed to be scanning the room for talent, though Vince could tell something wasn’t right with him. He was too tense in his seat, gripping his glass too tightly with one hand, and nervously chewing the thumbnail of the other.

“I’m bored,” he said suddenly. “The talent here is shite.” He looked at Vince, “Let’s get out of here.”

“We’ve only been here fifteen minutes, Stuart,” Vince told him. “Where do you want to go? It’s early still for any of the clubs, you know that.”

“Well, we can’t go to a club without you pulling a runner anyway, can we?” Stuart asked, rather scathingly. Vince ignored it. “Let’s go. I want curry.”

“Curry?” Vince asked, confused. “I’ve eaten, remember?”

“Well, I haven’t, and I drove all the way out to the suburbs to get you tonight, so the least you can do is get curry with me,” Stuart said. Vince couldn’t bring himself to argue. “Right. We’re off,” Stuart told Hazel and Alex. He grabbed Vince’s hand and pulled him out of his seat. “Come on.”

“Alright, just give us a tick,” Vince laughed, amused at his friend’s enthusiasm. He downed his drink, bent down to kiss his mum on the cheek, then blew a kiss to Alex before putting on his coat. All the while, he was aware of Stuart watching him impatiently.

“Bye, Vince! Bye shitface!” Alex said.

Stuart took Vince’s hand again and started to pull him out of the bar as Hazel and Alex watched.

Unbeknownst to Vince, Hazel – much more sober than she seemed to her son – watched them carefully as they left.

“What the fuck was that about?” Alex asked after the two were out of earshot.

“I’m not sure, but things are going to be a lot more interesting around here, soon,” Hazel told him.

Alex smiled. “Well, then, he’s your son. This round’s on you.”

…

Vince laughed as he walked through the door of Stuart’s flat, arms laden with bags.

“And what are people going to say if they ever find out that Stuart Jones left the Street not fifteen minutes into the night to go home for curry and a movie? Because he was bored. Really!”

“Maybe it’ll get through their thick heads to try a bit harder,” Stuart said quite seriously.

“Right,” Vince said. “All those men will try that much harder just to keep you around.”

“And why wouldn’t they?” Stuart asked from the kitchen area. “I’m lovely – all of me. They’d be lucky.”

“Course they would,” Vince told him. “Don’t forget the serving spoons while you’re in there.”

“Yes, mum,” Stuart laughed, already walking toward the couches. In one hand he balanced two plates piled with silverware, and in the other he held two glasses, with a bottle of whiskey in the crook of his arm.

“Oh, is that how it is, then?” Vince asked taking the plates and putting them on the coffee table beside the bags of curry. “We leave the pub with our friends so we can get pissed here alone?”

“Alone?” Stuart asked. “And just who am I, then?”

“You know what I meant,” Vince said. “Really, it’s fantastic. Just like when we were lads, yeah? Remember when we would finish a whole bottle of this ourselves in an afternoon?” He began to make up the plates as Stuart poured the whiskey.

“We?” Stuart asked. “I was the one doing most of the drinking. You were always too scared that Hazel would catch us.”

“She always knew anyway,” Vince said, handing Stuart his plate. He only dished out a taste for himself, having already eaten a full dinner with Cameron. “Don’t know how she did it with us – she always let us make our own mistakes.” He put down the food and walked to the entertainment center. “So what are we watching, then?”

“It’s up to you,” Stuart told him.” You’re the one who had the shite night with the shite boyfriend.”

Vince hid a smile by turning his back on his friend. Bastard though he was, Stuart could be sweet in his own fucked up way sometimes.

He looked through the DVDs until he found one still in the shrink wrap. “Oi! What’s this doing in your flat?” Vince asked, holding the DVD up for Stuart to see.

Stuart smiled slowly and leaned back, letting Vince know he was smug. “Marie brought it over for the boys,” he lied. “She thought I needed more than porn around here if I’m going to entertain them.”

“Yeah. Right,” Vince said, tearing off the shrink wrap and opening the case. “You just fancy Bruce Willis, don’t you?”

“That old man? I’m out of his league,” Stuart told him. “Though Ben Affleck…”

“Mmm – two for one, there. Matt Daemon’s his best mate,” Vince told Stuart as he set up the movie.

“I heard they were more than mates,” Stuart told him.

“You’re such a pervert,” Vince laughed, though he had been insinuating the same thing a moment before. “They’re straight. Both of them.”

“Bet I could have them. Both of them.” Stuart smirked.

“If you ever meet them, go ahead and try. Just make sure you videotape it for the rest of us mortals,” Vince said as he made his way back to the couch and picked up his plate. “Though with your luck, you would. They’ll probably come to Thrive to market their next film in Britain, and you’ll be on the account.”

“Would you though?” Stuart asked, tilting his chin down to look up at Vince through his lashes. “Watch a video of me?”

“Dunno,” Vince mused. “If it were mostly Ben Affleck and Matt Daemon, I’d think about it.”

“Just think?” Stuart was looking at Vince like he looked at his shags – all smolder and hunger.

“What are you like?” Vince asked, turning his back on his friend with a laugh. “Besides,” he continued as he set up the movie, “I wouldn’t have to watch. Best mate that you are, you’d introduce me, yeah?”

“You’re such a twat, Vince.” Stuart laughed, but Vince could hear a strain in it. “I’d let you meet them, as long as you promise not to tell that lot down at the pub all about it.”

“Alex would kill me if he ever found out!” Vince protested.

“Fuck Alex,” Stuart said. “Are we really going to a drag show to see her perform?”

“Course we are. He’ll be devastated if we don’t.”

“Can’t have that, now can we?” Stuart asked sarcastically.

“Now, now, Stuart, you’re fooling no one here,” Vince told him with a smile. “You hate hearing him go on when he’s upset; it wouldn’t be worth it to skip out. At least at the revue you can have fun having a go at all the queens.”

“Yeah, as long as they don’t start trying to cop off with me. Remember last time you dragged me to one of those?” Stuart actually pouted at Vince.

“I remember you telling them all to fuck off and taking home that one with the muscles. The American, yeah?” Vince reminded him, not giving in.

Stuart just continued to pout, and eventually Vince sighed. “All right, then. I’ll protect you from the queens if you go, promise?”

And that got Stuart laughing. “Protect me? You? What are you on about?”

“Well I could just leave you to them,” Vince told him.

“Don’t you dare,” Stuart told him. “And that was a shite shag anyway. Nice to look at though.”

“You? A shite shag? Does that even happen?”

“Not often,” Stuart said arrogantly. “Your movie’s starting. Pay attention, Vince.”

“ _My_ movie?” Vince asked.

He was rewarded by a gentle kick as Stuart stretched out on the couch, plate of curry in one hand. “Just watch and let me eat in peace.”

…

It had been a longer day than ether of them realized; long enough that Vince apparently wasn’t able to get through the movie without falling asleep.

After eating, Stuart had turned himself around, laying his head on Vince’s lap as he extended his feet over the opposite arm of the couch. But Vince, knackered as he was, stretched out, too. Both of them had a good amount of whiskey in them by that point, so by the time the credits rolled, the two were both laying down, Stuart’s head on Vince’s chest, and Vince’s arm around Stuart’s chest and shoulders.

It wasn’t a position Stuart found himself in often, especially not with Vince, but it seemed like something he could get used to. If only his best mate would stop being such an idiot.

“Vince?” Stuart said as the credits rolled, turning and lifting his torso to look down on his mate. “Movie’s over.”

“Sleeping,” Vince mumbled, throwing the arm that had been around Stuart over his face.

“You sure are,” Stuart agreed, letting his amusement color his voice. “Come on, up with you. I’m not driving you home at this hour, but I can at least give you a bed.”

“But where will you sleep, Stuart?” Vince asked tiredly, waking up for real now.

“Next to you, ya twat,” Stuart told him. Then, before he could start the protests Stuart knew were coming: “How many times did we share a cot as lads? There’s no reason for you to sleep on a lumpy settee now.”

To his surprise, Vince just smiled and said, “Alright, then.” Stuart knew it was the whiskey, but it was nice to have his mate actually _listen_ to him for once instead of assuming.

Without a word, Stuart nodded and climbed off the couch and headed toward the bathroom, stripping himself of his it as he did so.

“You’re not sleeping nude, though,” Vince called behind him.

Back still turned to his friend, Stuart smirked, because that was exactly what he had been planning. “Sure, have a go,” he called back, feigning annoyance.

He smiled at the long-suffering sigh he heard from Vince as he shut the bathroom door behind him.

He’d have a whole weekend of this: Vince staying over, in his bed if he had his way. And now that Vince was staying there tonight, it would be easy enough to convince him to stay there again. And if it started out chaste, well, he was Stuart Jones, Manchester’s Champion Shagger, right? How difficult would it be to seduce one bloke?

Well, one bloke who was continuously rebuffing his advances, who had a bloody _boyfriend_ to think about.

Stuart ran cold water over his face, banishing the thought from his mind. He would deal with that, too, by the time the weekend was out.

Stuart left out of the bathroom in naught but his boxer briefs and strutted into the bedroom to find a pair of pajama pants for the night. He called, “Alright, then, time for – ”

When he stepped up to the raised bed area, he saw Vince was already passed out under the covers. “Bed,” he finished softly, smiling at his mate.

He found a pair of pants in his bureau and slipped them on before crawling into bed beside Vince. His friend was warm and smelled good, of whiskey and spice, so Stuart drew close as he relaxed into sleep.


	6. Thursday

**Thursday**

 

Vince woke up early the next morning in an unusually comfortable bed, lying on his back with a body much slighter than Cameron’s lying half on top of him.

 _Oh my god,_ he thought, unwilling to open his eyes just yet. From the feel of him, he had definitely gotten good and drunk last night, on whiskey no less. But he couldn’t remember copping off. The last thing he remembered was being at Stuart’s flat –

“Relax, will you?” Stuart’s sleepy voice wafted up from the vicinity of Vince’s chest. “You’ll give me bruises with those fingers.”

Vince relaxed, just then realizing he had grasped Stuart’s back and shoulders as he slept. Stuart, for his part, was half on top of Vince, one arm over Vince’s shoulder and the other nestled between them. Good – he had just fallen asleep in Stuart’s bed, and cuddled while they slept.

Somehow he thought Cam would prefer he cop off with a stranger.

He felt more than heard Stuart’s melodramatic sigh. “Isn’t it a bit early for those wheels to be turning in your head? Go back to sleep.”

“What happened last night, Stuart?” he asked instead. “Last I remember, we were on the settee watching _Armageddon_.”

“Drunken sod,” Stuart muttered, but he tightened his grip when Vince tried to pull away. “Don’t you remember, when it was over neither one of us could get you home. You stayed over.”

“And who was it that kept pouring the whiskey into my glass? It wasn’t me, I know,” Vince told him. Great, now his head was beginning to throb, too. “Why didn’t you call me a cab?”

“Cause you would have fallen asleep on the ride back,” Stuart told him, annoyance clear in his voice.  “It’s only seven; just go back to sleep another hour.”

“I’ve work in an hour, Stuart. Early shift today,” Vince told him, for once quite truthful in his excuse. “I’ll just go back to mine and get dressed, yeah?”

“Fine,” Stuart said, rolling over and away from Vince suddenly. “See you tonight then? Take the jeep; just pick me up from work later.”

“Can’t,” Vince told him. “Promised Cameron I’d see him tonight, to make up for swanning off last night. I’ll be here tomorrow right after work to get Alfie with you though. And I’ve the mini now, remember. I’ll just take a cab back to my flat.”

“Fine then,” Stuart said, full on pouting now. “See you tomorrow. Have fun with your _boyfriend_.”

“Could do lunch,” Vince suggested.

“Can’t. Meeting with Burton.” Stuart turned back over into Vince’s personal space. “Right after work tomorrow, though. Pack a bag in the morning, I don’t want to be waiting on you.”

 Vince refrained from rolling his eyes. “Alright then. Half five, I’ll be here, and you’ll still be in work. That good for you?”

“Perfect,” Stuart said. “You can make tea.”

Vince laughed. “Yeah, right. You’d like that.” He pulled himself up and out of bed, doing his best to ignore the pain of his headache. “I’m out then. Mind if I take some aspirin on my way?” Not that he ever really needed to ask with Stuart.

“Take what you like, just let me sleep,” Stuart complained.

“Ta,” Vince said before going to the medicine cabinet in search of the pills. Once he found them, he made his way out of the flat as quickly and silently as he could manage.

 

…

 

Despite the mild hangover, Vince had an easy enough shift at Harlo’s that Vince thought he would actually leave on time. There were no emergencies, and no one looking for him. In fact, he was able to work on inventories in his office for most of the morning, and didn’t have to come out until after coffee and painkillers had finished their work and the last remnants of his hangover were gone.

On the floor, the girls were giggling about all sorts, more than usual, but he turned a blind eye. As long as everything was running so smoothly and they were getting their work done, there was no reason to rein them in.

Mad, really, to have an easy day all around. Of course, to Vince that was just a challenge. He’d find something to make it rough.

He found Rosalie in the back room just before his lunch break. It took him a moment to draw his courage, but after dealing with Stuart and Cameron these last few days, surely he could handle one girl.

 “Hiya,” he said, getting her attention.

 “Oh, hi,” she said politely before pressing her mouth into a tight frown.

 “I was wondering, could I take you to lunch?” he asked.

She cocked her head, and Vince thought he might detect a hint of a smile in her eyes. “I’m seeing someone, Vince. A bloke.”

 “So am I,” Vince told her with a smile.

That got a small laugh at of her.

 “Come on then, just lunch. Let me make it up to you, talk it out, yeah?” he asked.

 “Yeah, alright,” Rosalie said sweetly. “I deserve that much.”

 “More,” Vince agreed. “But all I have to offer is lunch.”

They walked in silence to a nearby restaurant, not the one Vince had met Stuart at, but a popular, mostly straight one.

Rosalie was the first to talk when they sat down with their menus, looking over hers pointedly. “You could have told me, you know. I wouldn’t have said anything.”

Vince tilted his head as he looked at her, pleading for understanding with his eyes. “I couldn’t know that, could I?” he asked. “Really, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for things to get out of hand; I should have told you I wasn’t on the market at least. I was a coward.”

 “A bit,” Rosalie said primly. But then her expression softened to something like understanding. “Why were you scared though? Why’d you feel you had to hide from all of us?”

Vince frowned, trying to find the words – not a common occurrence for him to be at a loss. “You don’t know what it’s like: hearing the jokes and faces directed at other blokes, the snide remarks behind their backs. You’re all friendly with me, yeah? But would you still be if you knew? And what about Mrs. Fletcher and the rest in management? Would I have much of a career if they knew?”

 “But not all of us,” Rosalie argued. “I never said anything like that.”

 “But you came down to Canal Street for a lark, yeah? Thought it would be fun and exciting to spend a night in gay Manchester, watching the blokes?” Vince pointed out.

 “I never meant –” Rosalie started, frowning.

 “Sorry, that was a bit much. I’m supposed to be apologizing to you here,” Vince interrupted her, blushing at his rudeness. “I get it, really. I’m not exactly the best ambassador for the gay community, as Cameron’s quick to point out. Can’t blame you for being curious. But you see why I didn’t want to say anything?”

 “Terrible ambassador,” Rosalie said, a small smile making its way back to her face. Vince relaxed when he saw it.

The waiter chose that moment to come over for their orders, and Vince could almost see Rosalie’s thoughts churning as she ordered her salad and Panini. Vince steeled himself for more difficult questions as he ordered his own soup and sandwich.

Once the waiter was out of earshot, she continued, “But I can see why. Especially with those men you keep around. What was your friend thinking then?”

 “He wasn’t,” Vince said with a sigh. “Or, he was, but not clearly. It’s complicated.”

 “We have time,” Rosalie invited him to continue.

 “Suppose so,” Vince agreed. “I – well, I don’t really know what was going through his head, do I? Stuart’s a right bastard even at the best of times, but he’s my best mate, so I’m a bit used to it. But that – I think he was trying to make me mad, drive me away.

 “It’s mental, really,” Vince continued, knowing he was babbling, but relieved to have someone uninvolved to talk to. “He got me together with Cameron, set up our first date. Then he pushed me away like that, after throwing me that party and all, and now? Well, I don’t know what’s in his head, but since we started talking again he’s been – well, nice. Not like Stuart at all. On his best behavior, really, but he keeps touching me all the time, keeping me close. He says he isn’t sick, but I’m starting to wonder.”

 “Doesn’t sound like any sickness I know of,” Rosalie commented.

 “That would be Stuart, though, wouldn’t it? The only bloke who gets nicer when he’s ill, just to be contrary,” Vince said.

Rosalie laughed. “I only met him for a moment, but from what I saw, that sounds about right.”

 “Really, though, I’m in over my head here,” Vince continued as their food arrived. “Ta. I’ve Cameron on one hand – responsible, kind, kinda old, but he says he loves me. Wants dinners for two and vacations together, but I don’t know. It’s all a bit much, yeah? And then on the other hand there’s Stuart, who hates Cameron passionately, but tried to chase me into his arms. And now if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was acting like he wants to date me. And me – well, Stuart tells me I’m in charge, but what does that even mean? I’m not used to any of this.”

 “Sounds like this Stuart’s chasing you. You’ll have to choose one of them eventually,” Rosalie told him.

 “Not Stuart,” Vince told her. “We’ve been best mates since we were lads – sixteen years now, and he’s never had a boyfriend. Stuart doesn’t do boyfriends. At least, that’s how he’s always been before.”

 “Well, you’ve rumors of him and you going round the market, you know,” she told him conspiratorially. “Him coming in like that yesterday, where everyone could see. If you hadn’t come out already, it wouldn’t have mattered that I kept your secret after that. Everyone could see.”

Vince laughed. “Only a matter of time, that, since he knew I came out and all. There’s always rumors about us, everywhere. At least until anyone gets to know Stuart – after that, most wise up. He’s not exactly discreet about his shagging. Or anything, really.”

 “So, you’re opposites, then?” Rosalie asked, and Vince could see she was teasing.

 “Ha ha,” Vince replied sarcastically, smiling back. “And what about you then? Who’s the bloke you’re seeing?”

 “Terrance Whitely. Nice bloke. Fancies women, I have it on authority.”

 “Really? Not Janice’s, I hope,” Vince teased with a wink.

 “Oi, be nice,” Rosalie scolded. “She couldn’t have known. You made sure of that.”

 “Suppose so,” Vince agreed. “Who’s authority, then? And how did you meet him?”

Rosalie lit up as she described their first meeting at her sister’s engagement party, and the first date after that. Vince listened gladly, interrupting only to ask questions about the details.

By the end of lunch, they were comfortably laughing together and teasing each other as they walked down the street back to Harlo’s. Vince had only hoped to ease the tension between them, but it was possible that he had actually salvaged a fine friendship from the situation.

 

…

 

Dinner that night was Cameron’s choice – Vince didn’t even know where their reservations were until they pulled up to Australasia, a posh Australian themed restaurant Stuart had taken him to months ago, well before Cameron had colored his view of all things Australian.

 “Taste of home then?” Vince asked after they gave their orders to their waiter. “I’m getting spoiled by you successful blokes and your posh restaurants, you know.”

 “You’re successful, too, Vince. It’s not all about money,” Cameron told him. “And what other men are taking you out to restaurants?”

 “No one,” Vince told him reassuringly. “Just Stuart, taking me to scout new locations for his client meetings.”

 “Stuart, of course,” Cameron said dryly. “He’s been around a lot lately.”

 “Always is,” Vince reminded him. “Except when we’re having a row. But those never last.”

 “I was surprised, you know, that you called him.”

 “I didn’t cave first, though,” Vince confided. “He left K-9 on the Mini that morning. Just sitting on its roof, waiting for me when I got down. I’d left it at his flat specifically, you know, cause I was mad. And Stuart – Stuart’s crap at apologies, but anyone can read a gesture like that. What else could I do?”

 “Wait for a proper apology?” Cameron suggested.

 “You don’t understand. That is a proper apology from Stuart.”

Cameron pursed his lips and looked down at his wineglass seriously. “Look, I don’t want to argue,” he said calmly before pulling some papers from the inside pocket of his jacket. He handed them to Vince, who saw upon closer inspection that they were travel brochures. “Actually, I wanted talk to you about visiting Australia. Seriously, I mean.”

 “That’s why we’re here then?” Vince asked, looking through the packages.

Cameron smiled. “Yeah, thought it would fit the theme.”

 “Cor, Cam. Look at the prices on these! That’s a month’s salary, just on the flight!”

 “I said I’d pay, didn’t I?” Cameron reminded him, rather snappishly. “I was thinking a couple of weeks in late October. It’ll be spring there by then. We could see the sights, visit my family, maybe have a laugh for Halloween?”

 “I don’t know, it’s a bit soon, yeah? Just a couple of months out,” Vince said, referring to both the immediacy of the trip and the fact that they really hadn’t been together as a couple for very long.

 “We’d have to book soon before the prices go up,” Cameron told him. “Think about it, yeah?”

 “Alright,” Vince agreed. He handed him back the brochures just before the waiter came with their dishes.

 “This looks good,” Vince commented. “Then again, they’ve always been about presentation here, haven’t they? You should see their sashimi dish – Stuart ordered it when we were here, and it came out arranged as flowers of all sorts of fish. Delicious, too.”

 “How is Stuart?” Cameron asked, and Vince was happy to note that his voice was at least even, if not pleasant. “Learning how to take care of that baby of his?”

 “Slowly, yeah, but he’s coming along,” Vince told him.

 “Maybe it would be quicker if he spent more time with him instead of shagging.”

 “He’s learning. No need to have a go,” Vince scolded. “He has Alfie for the whole weekend, actually – picking him up tomorrow night and keeping him through Monday morning. He asked me to stay over and help with the lad.”

 “The whole weekend?” Cameron asked. “We had plans Saturday night. Christian has that party for the release of his new book.”

 “I’m not sure he’d be that broken up about my absence,” Vince offered candidly.

 “I’d be a bit broken up though,” Cameron told him earnestly. “And Christian and Thomas liked you, really. They’d want you there.”

 “I don’t think we had much in common,” Vince said diplomatically. “Not sure how much I would bring to the party. And this weekend is for Alfie, really. I can’t say no, can I? You know, Romie and Lisa are talking about having him call me Papa – say since he has a Mum and a Mama he should have a Da and a Papa, too. I’m right chuffed about it, too.”

 “But you and Stuart aren’t together,” Cameron started with a frown.

 “Corse not,” Vince interrupted him. “But that’s not what it’s about, yeah? I was there when Alfie was born – the sober one, between me and Stuart, mind. And I’ve been there since – even when Stuart hasn’t been. And I love the lad like crazy. It’s nice that they see that.”

 “Yeah, it is,” Cameron agreed, his congenial expression returning. “I guess I’ll be going stag, then.”

 “Just don’t pull any shags without me,” Vince told him teasingly.

 “Wouldn’t dream of it,” Cameron told him with a warm smile. “Who else could compare to you?”

Vince blushed, still unused to his boyfriend’s charm. “Ta.”

 “Seriously, Vince. I understand this weekend, but it happens a lot, doesn’t it? Your mum, Stuart, Alex – they always need you for something. They depend on you – and that’s not a bad thing, but you need a break sometime,” Cameron continued. “ _We_ need a break sometimes, a few days just for us, no interruptions or cancellations. Think about Australia, yeah?”

 “Will do,” Vince agreed. Cameron was right of course, he could use a break. But the two of them alone together for two whole weeks? On the other side of the world? Stuart was usually the one to take him on trips like that; it would feel odd going without him.

 “This is delicious,” he said, motioning toward the fish he was eating and changing the subject. Hopefully smoothly.

 “Yeah, it is. It’s been a while since I’ve had trout like this,” Cameron said, easily sliding into a more casual conversation.

Vince smiled and let himself natter a bit about the meal and the last time he was there with Stuart. Cameron didn’t seem to mind, as long as Vince stayed away from specifics about Stuart, and he was always amused by Vince’s twittering. The rest of the meal flew by as they traded stories of great restaurants that they loved.

As they were walking out of the restaurant, Cameron put his hand on the small of Vince’s back and leaned in toward his ear. “I was thinking actually, maybe Australia could be a trial? If we don’t get sick of each other after two weeks nonstop, maybe we should think of moving in together?”

Vince couldn’t help the shocked look that crossed his face. “I – well, Cam –”

 “We don’t have to think too much about it yet,” Cameron interrupted, moving around the car to open his door for him. “I just wanted to put it out there.”

 “Yeah, we’ll think about it,” Vince said, getting into the car. 


	7. Friday

**Friday**   
  


“Vince! Four rings! Did I interrupt something interesting then?”

Vince couldn’t help the laugh that escaped as he rolled his eyes. “I’m at work, Mum. As you know. Can’t talk long.”

“Just called to ask a question. Won’t take a minute,” Hazel assured him.

“Go on, then.”

“I was wondering what kind of mong I raised,” she said tartly. “I got a call from that boyfriend of yours this morning, telling me he needs my help convincing you to go to Australia with him. And letting him pay for it all, too. What’s wrong, then?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Vince told her, checking to make sure his office door was closed. “It’s just all a bit to take in. I’m not sure I’m as serious about this as he is.”

“Oh, Vince,” Hazel sighed. “You know you worry too much.”

“It’s not worry – I just don’t want to take advantage,” Vince told earnestly.

“It it were Alex, you know he’d be off making reservations before the bloke could change his mind. Can’t you just accept a nice thing?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Alex and I are quite different people,” Vince pointed out. “Seriously, though, it’s all very heavy. First saying he loves me, now this. We’ve only been together a few months.”

“And Stuart? What does he think of all this?”

Vince laughed mirthlessly. “He hates Cameron, of course. I don’t actually have to tell him to know he’d carry on about it, do I?”

“He does make his opinions known, our Stuart,” Hazel agreed.

“Wouldn’t be Stuart if he didn’t,” Vince agreed. His sardonic smile fell and he let his voice take on a serious air again. “He asked me to move in with him.”

“Who, Stuart?”

“No, course not, you loon! Cameron. Suggested that the holiday be a trial run of us together all the time, and that we move in if it went well.”

“And what did you say, then?”

“I told him we’d think about it.”

“And will you?”

“I don’t know,” Vince told her honestly. “Don’t know if I want that much of him.”

“Come over for tea tonight,” Hazel told him. Vince knew what she was really saying, and he was glad of her support.

“Can’t. Promised Stuart I’d be there all weekend; we’re taking care of Alfie together. Dinner tomorrow? If his highness agrees on company?”

“Taking care of him together, or leaving you with the babe?” Hazel asked.

“Don’t really know yet, do I?” Vince admitted. “I’ll let you know when I do.”

“Ta. I’ll be there if he wants me there,” Hazel told him. “Might be there anyway; haven’t seen the lad in weeks now. Let the bastard know I’ll cook if he wants. He never does turn down my roast.”

“I’ll let him know,” Vince told her. “Got to go. Inventory reports.”

“It’s always inventory reports with you.”

“Bye, Mum. Lotsa love.”

“Same to you!”

 

…

 

Stuart drove up to his building slowly, uncharacteristically but for his precious passenger. Alfie was awake beside him, giggling as he took in all the unfamiliar urban sights.

The lights were on in his flat. Good – Vince was already there, with take-out waiting, no doubt. Stuart didn’t see the Mini parked nearby, and for that he was glad, too. Hopefully there would be no reminders of the Australian this weekend.

Jeep parked and off, Stuart collected his son’s things – clothes, food, diapers, and toys – before taking Alfie, car seat and all. He left the crib and pram; though he’d never tell the lesbians, he already had expensive copies of them stored in his flat. Vince had helped him pick them out in anticipation ages ago, before Cameron, before Nathan even.

He spared a moment as he rode up to his flat to text Vince.

_**Here. Help on the lift.** _

As predicted, Vince was waiting and nattering as soon as the door opened. “Oi, you tosser. You were supposed to be here after work. I’ve been waiting for hours, and you not returning my calls – I thought we were going to get him together.”

“I hope you kept dinner warm,” Stuart told him with a smirk, carrying Alfie into the flat and leaving Vince to get the rest. He really should help, or apologize, or something. He _knew_ he should, but Vince was so much fun to rile up, and he turned such a lovely shade of red when he really got going.

“Food just got here, actually. Got sick of waiting for you and put in an order. Hope you’re ok with Chinese, didn’t want Indian again.”

“Of course I’m ok with Chinese,” Stuart said.

“You _could_ take something with the free hand,” Vince said, just low enough that Stuart could reasonably decide to ignore it, which he did. His hands were full of Alfie, after all.

He put the babe in his crib in the living room, adding an extra plush friend or two to keep him company through dinner.

Leaving Vince to sort the baggage out in the bedroom, Stuart crossed to the kitchen to make a couple of plates: extra lo mein and chicken satay for Vince, since they were his favorite, and plenty of prawns for himself. Vince, of course, hadn’t touched the bags, but had waited for Stuart to eat. He made it back to set their dinners and beers – just the one each tonight, since they were minding Alfie – down on the coffee table before Vince was done in the bedroom.

“You could help instead of sitting on your arse in front of the telly, you know,” Vince said when he came into view.

“Was waiting for you. Dinnertime, Vince,” Stuart said with a snide grin, gesturing to the food.

Vince, of course, saw through his snark when he saw the place settings. “Ta. I’m starving,” he said, standing in the doorway and looking at Stuart with the most enticing grin. Not that Vince had any clue the effect his smile had on blokes.

“Well then get your arse over here. I’m not waiting forever,” Stuart said, letting his grin soften into something teasing before turning to his meal.

“Well aren’t you in a cheerful mood?” Vince asked as he settled in beside Stuart on the settee. “You even got my plate perfect – all my favorite things.”

“Well it wasn’t hard with you having put in the order,” Stuart told him, secretly preening under the praise. Vince didn’t know it, but Stuart always preened under his praise.

“So what’s the plan for the night then?” Vince asked.

“None. The lesbians gave me some blocks and animals to play with, and some books to read, but we only have an hour or so until he gets a bottle and bed. Romy says he’s sleeping through the night now.”

Vince gave him a surprised look.

“What?! I’m not stupid enough to forget what I’m told when it comes to taking care of my own son, am I?” Stuart asked.

That actually earned him a warm smile from Vince – one of his favorites. “No, course not,” Vince said. “Just not used to hearing you talk responsibly, am I?”

“Twat,” Stuart said affectionately.

“Cunt,” Vince smiled back.

Stuart stretched himself out sideways on the couch, plate in his lap, before burrowing his feet under Vince’s legs.

Vince shifted to adjust to them, but said nothing as he tucked into his meal. Stuart smiled into a mouthful of his own dinner; Vince didn’t know it yet, but given their start, he had high hopes for this weekend.

 

…

 

Even with Vince’s help, feeding his son and putting him to bed was much easier said than done. First he didn’t want his supper, then he started sobbing whenever they put him down. He absolutely did not want to be put in the crib once it was transferred to the bedroom. It was a full two hours later when the crying had finally stopped and Stuart was able to transfer the now sleeping baby from his arms to the crib.

“Fuck, are they always like that?” he asked as he walked back into the living area, where Vince was stretched out on the couch, looking as exhausted as he felt.

He lifted Vince’s bare feet and fell into the couch before putting them back in his lap, rubbing them absently.

“I think it’s just with us,” Vince said morosely. He had gotten the worst of it: shrieking and spit up all over his jumper when he was trying to feed the lad, and more crying whenever he held him. You’d never know that Alfie was more familiar with Vince than with Stuart, the way he decided to carry on tonight.

“Think Hazel will take him tomorrow?” Stuart asked, more than half serious.

“Not likely. Though she wants to come over for dinner and see him. Thought maybe she could cook for us. Roast, she said.”

Stuart let his pleasure be known by rubbing Vince’s feet more enthusiastically. Hazel’s roasts were his favorite, reminding him of Sundays spent with Vince as lads – the truest home he had ever known, for all that he had a family and house of his own. “Wouldn’t mind,” he said noncommittally.

“Good, I’ll call her in the morning, then,” Vince said, eyes closing as he leaned back to appreciate Stuart’s ministrations. “Glad we don’t have plans tonight. I’m right knackered.”

“Getting old, Vince. It’s not even ten yet.” Stuart couldn’t resist a bit of needling, though he was dead tired himself.

“Fuck off,” Vince laughed, kicking Stuart lightly with his unoccupied foot.

“If you insist,” Stuart said, putting down the other one, too, but leaving them in his lap. He scowled. “How’s the boyfriend, then? Catch the early bird special with the geriatrics last night?”

 “No, ya tosser,” Vince said, though to Stuart he seemed more amused by the jab than annoyed. “Took me to a posh restaurant, asked me to go on holiday with him again. A couple weeks in Australia, and him paying for it all.”

“Are you going?” Stuart asked.

“Don’t know yet; not sure I like him paying so much. I mean, you pay when we go on holiday, but that’s different isn’t it? I have to put up with all your shite here.”

“You love it,” Stuart told him. “I’m lovely; you’d be bored without me. I keep life interesting.”

Vince chuckled before going on. “If I do though – and I’m not sure – he wants it to be a trial run. Really, he wants to move in together when we get back, if we’re alright being together so much out there.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I said I’d think about it,” Vince told him. “It’s nice, you know. That he wants it, me, even if I don’t know if I do.”

“Why would you even think about it?” Stuart asked, raising his voice. He shoved Vince’s feet off his lap and stood up. How dare he? How dare Cameron infringe on Vince – on _his_ Vince – like he had any right to him. “Are you actually going to?”

“Stuart, calm down. You’re going to wake Alfie,” Vince said, taking on his most authoritative tone. Not that it Stuart cared much.

“No, Vince, I’m not calming down. Answer the question.”

“I don’t know. It’s not like I said yes,” Vince said, standing himself now and glaring at Stuart. “I wasn’t exactly going to turn him down as soon as he asked, was I?”

“Do you love him, then?” Stuart asked, not for the first time, bending his neck to put his face directly in Vince’s. “Is that what you want then? Holidays and dinners and a shared mortgage with him?”

“And why do you care if I do?” Vince asked, leaning into his space as well. And this was the side of Vince so few saw; the side that could challenge Stuart, give as good as he got.

“Twat!” Stuart exploded. He jumped at the volume, and only went on when he was sure there was no cries coming from the bedroom, this time much lower, though no less angry. “Blind, stupid twat! You’ve your head so far up your arse you can’t see anything around you, can you? Or are you just a coward?”

He stalked across the room to the kitchen, pulling out a bottle of whiskey and a glass without even looking in the cabinets.

Vince followed him of course, coming around the island and invading his space. “Oi, none of that then, not with Alfie here,” he said, pulling the whiskey from his hand before he could pour. “What’s this all about then? If I’m so bloody blind, then tell me what I’m not seeing.”

Stuart looked down at him, lips pressed together, taking in everything he was saying. Vince, who could see through his every lie, every act – who knew exactly what he was up to all the time – really didn’t know. The wanker had no idea what was in Stuart’s head when it came to anything having to do with himself. Not that he ever had. Stuart had made sure of that, hadn’t he?

He turned into Vince, positioning them so Vince was pressed up against the kitchen island, Stuart directly in front of him. He put one hand on his friend’s face, taking in the confusion and, yes, just a bit of fear for a moment.

Then he pounced, pressing in for a deep kiss. He pushed against Vince with his whole body, letting him feel Stuart’s arousal, pinning him in place as he ran his tongue over his lips, teasing them open before taking Vince’s mouth hungrily.

When he finally broke away, he put his hands on the countertop on either side of Vince’s hips, trapping him there.

“Dump the Australian,” Stuart purred into his ear, letting his Irish brogue come through. “Stop leading him on.”

“What are you like, Staurt?” Vince asked, his voice betraying his uncertainty, and his lust.

Stuart frowned. Wasn’t it obvious? “Blind fucking twat,” he repeated, this time fondly. “I _love_ ye, Vince. I’ve been trying to tell you for ages. _I_ want the holidays, the shared flat, the relationship.”

“Stuart,” Vince said, and his voice was suddenly icy. “That’s playing dirty. That’s –”

“I’m not playing with ye,” Stuart interrupted fiercely. “What do you think this has all been in aid of – lunch at Manto’s, dancing at Babylon, a weekend together playing house _?_ I told you, it was good enough for me. It still is.”

Vince froze, his eyes fixed on Stuart’s. Stuart held his gaze, willing him to understand what he was trying to say.

“You bastard,” Vince said finally, lowering his gaze. “Sixteen years, and you wait until I have a bloody boyfriend to tell me. Perfect timing, Stuart.”

“So dump him,” Stuart told him. He was getting sick of repeating himself.

“You don’t even know if I want you,” Vince pointed out.

Stuart pushed his hips into Vince again, proving that they were both hard. “Of course you do.”

And that was the exact wrong way to go about things with Vince, Stuart realized with a small surge of panic. All of this was wrong, he knew. He was supposed to seduce Vince, convince him that he needed Stuart as much as Stuart needed him – not bully him and show him the worst aspects of himself.

“Pavlov’s dogs,” Vince said tiredly, pushing Stuart away. This time, he let him. “Besides, that’s not the same thing.”

“You do, don’t ye, Vince?” Stuart asked, softening his tone and letting Vince see his worry.

Vince sighed heavily. “Let me think, yeah? I’m still with Cameron, you know, and I need to sort that out before anything else.”

“Bloody Cameron,” Stuart said tightly, barely controlling his temper. “This isn’t about him.”

“It is, like it or not,” Vince snapped. “I’m with him, he’s my boyfriend – anything I decide is about him in the end, isn’t it? Anything that happens with us, it won’t happen until that’s over.”

“Really?” Stuart asked, biting his tongue.

“I’m in charge, Stuart, you said it yourself,” Vince reminded him, his voice for once strong and confident. “At least enough to ask this: I need time to figure this out.” Then the fight seemed to go out of him and he collapsed into himself, though his eyes remained up, looking into Stuarts’. “You know you’re right about me. You’ve always known, yeah? But give us some time, Stuart. Don’t expect everything to fall into place at once, just because you’ve decided you want it now.”

Stuart drew in a deep breath and nodded, not trusting his voice. He wasn’t sure if he would shout again or start confessing everything he ever felt to Vince, but he was smart enough to know that neither one would help his cause now.

Instead, he grabbed his bottle of whiskey, pivoted on his heels, and stalked into his bedroom. Mindful of his sleeping son, he silently put the bottle on his nightstand before falling into his bed.

That was certainly not how he had planned the evening.

 

…

 

Vince sighed as he watched Stuart stalk into his bedroom.

He couldn’t say he wasn’t expecting an explosion like that, but he hadn’t expected it so soon, and he certainly hadn’t been prepared for Stuart to actually say he loved him.

_Loved_ him, really. Stuart. Now that his anger had faded, he took a moment to bask in it. He’d always loved Stuart, of course. He’d waited for him for sixteen years, hadn’t he? And he’d even suspected that Stuart wanted something more than friendship in the last week or so, but this – this was unexpected. More than he could handle, really.

He took his phone out and started to call the cab company. Time to go home – pull a runner, like always. In the morning, they could pretend this had never happened, go back to being mates.

Stuart was right. He was a coward.

“Street Cars Manchester, where can we take you?” a lady said pleasantly over the mobile.

“Uh, sorry. Wrong number,” Vince said quickly before hanging it up.

He could do this. Stay the night, be there for Alfie in the morning, let everything Stuart said stick. They’d figure it out. Didn’t they always?

He walked into the bedroom silently, unsure if he would disturb Stuart or Alfie. Both of them seemed to be asleep.

Not that he blamed Stuart – between getting Alfie down and the argument, he was about to fall over himself. He pulled off his trousers and jumper and crawled into the bed in just his pants and shirt, hoping Stuart wouldn’t start shouting again.

His friend just turned to face him, blue eyes dark and questioning.

“Of course I love you, Stuart,” Vince told him softly, realizing he hadn’t returned the words yet. “We’ll figure this out.”

Stuart was silent, but he nodded, letting Vince know it was ok. He reached out to pull Stuart in, and, finding him pliant, arrange him so his head was on Vince’s chest as he fell asleep.

Despite his fatigue, it took a long time for Vince to get to sleep. All he could think of was Cameron, and how hurt he would be if he knew what just happened here. But there was no denying his feelings for the man in his arms, nor the way they eclipsed anything he could ever feel for Cameron.

Was this cheating? They hadn’t shagged, had only kissed once, but it felt more like cheating than Vince expected a random shag would.

Vince pressed his lips together and vowed again to take care of things with Cam before going forward with Stuart. It didn’t make him feel any better, but at least he found some comfort in sleep not long after.


	8. Saturday Morning

**Saturday Morning**

 

Vince had no expectations of rest that night, but he was still disappointed to find himself awake and still exhausted at seven a.m., arms still full of a clingy and sweet sleeping Stuart.

How was it that a man who could be such a devil awake seemed so angelic asleep? Between his soft dark curls tickling his neck and the breathy hums he made as he nuzzled his chest, Vince couldn’t help wondering how so much havoc and chaos could come from this man.

He wondered, briefly, if any other blokes had seen Stuart soft and unguarded like this. Jealously, he hoped not, that Stuart wouldn’t let his guard down like this with his shags, that he threw them out before allowing them to see this part of him.

A part of him fleetingly wondered how much more he showed to Stuart than Cameron. He knew the answer would make him guilty all over again.

Alfie, bless him, distracted him from that train of thought: the lad was just beginning to fuss in his crib. Like father, like son; both had slept soundly through the night, despite their short tempers the night before.

Vince slipped out of Stuart’s grip as carefully as he could, for the second time that week escaping the sleeping dragon unscathed. He made his way quietly across the room and picked the lad up.

Now fully rested and in need of a new nappie, Alfie had no problem with Vince holding him, cooing and reaching for him with his stubby arms.

Vince took a long moment to just look at the boy. His son, in some ways – Stuart and the lesbians had decided that, hadn’t they, having Alfie call him ‘Papa?’ He loved the lad like his own, but that was a lot of responsibility, wasn’t it? Would it be any more effort than looking after his da? He didn’t think that would be possible.

At least he knew it would be just as rewarding. The boy was already a wonder, so bright and full of energy. What would he grow into? Could Romy and Lisa and Vince mitigate the worst of Stuart’s influences and still bring out his best?

Alfie gurgled unhappily, bringing Vince back to the present. Right. Nappies, then brekkie for Alfie. Then something for him and Stuart – he had brought eggs and sausage yesterday, and he knew Stuart had fresh bread somewhere. A nice lie in with a served brekkie should get the Irish bastard up on the right side of the bed.

He made sure the bedroom door was closed firmly when he took Alfie back into the main room; it would do him no good to wake Stuart as he went about his chores.

He let his mind wander as he took care of Alfie, his mouth on auto-pilot as he cooed at the lad and confided some of his more innocent thoughts. Even if he couldn’t understand, it was nice to vent his problems aloud. And the lad made a great listener, watching him with that sweet smile, just like his da at his rare best.

And problems Vince had. Between Stuart and Cameron, he felt he had nothing but problems. The most wonderful problems, some of them, sure, but problems nonetheless.

The first of which was how to stay with Stuart for the next two days without crossing any boundaries. He would break up with Cam, of course – what else could he do? – but he’d do it in person, Monday, before Alex’s show. Properly. Until then, he wasn’t sure he could give Stuart anything he had demanded last night; even sharing a bed was crossing a line. But cor, he wanted everything Stuart had offered and more.

And Cam would have to be the first to know of course, no way he could tell Hazel anything about what had happened last night – it wouldn’t be fair to his boyfriend. Present tense, that – he had to remind himself. Stuart was not his boyfriend.

Not yet, at least. Wasn’t that what he had said last night though? That he wanted the relationship? Stuart Jones, boyfriend material? He had barely ever let himself imagine it, and had never hoped. It just wasn’t Stuart, was it? Really, if he was being completely honest with himself, the most he had ever hoped for from Stuart was friendship and a shag.

Sad, that’s what he was – and here Stuart was, proving him wrong again. Saying he wanted it all! Vince still didn’t quite believe it.

And how would he keep it from Hazel, really? The woman was a menace, able to see straight through him and Stuart both, no matter what they did. He’d consider cancelling dinner with her if there were any chance she would actually listen to him.

Besides, Alfie would love to see Hazel, and vice versa. There was no reason for him to keep the two apart.

Now properly changed and fed, Vince put Alfie in the play pen Stuart had set up near the kitchen. He left the lad with some blocks and a few brightly colored toy dinosaurs to play with as he set to work on breakfast. He had everything he needed for Stuart’s favorite morning indulgences: poached eggs, sausage, toast with strawberry jam, and coffee black and strong enough to hold a spoon up straight on its own.

 

…

 

Waking up next to Vince had always been one of Stuart’s favorite things to do.

Waking up next to a Vince who knew he loved him? Well, that had been a fantasy of his for sixteen years, hadn’t it?

And Vince _should be_ in his bed. Even after their fight last night, he hadn’t swanned off or slept on the couch like a coward or indulged in any other nonsense. He had come to Stuart’s bed, told him he loved him, and cuddled him to sleep. Stuart had very much been looking forward to waking up like that this morning.

So why was the bed empty and cold when Stuart opened his eyes?

He heard banging about in the kitchen, so at least Vince hadn’t pulled a runner. Yet.

“Vince?” Stuart called, his voice rough from sleep. He stretched against the sheets as he waited for his mate – partner? No, not yet – to join him.

It only took Vince a moment to open his door and walk in, carrying Alfie in one arm. “Oh, good, you’re up,” he said, and Stuart could see a nervous smile playing on his face. “Here, you can take him for a bit. I’ll be back in a mo.”

As soon as he put Alfie in Stuart’s arms, he was gone, off to whatever he had been doing before Stuart woke up. _Mong,_ Stuart thought affectionately as he rearranged Alfie to a more comfortable position in his arms.

He could hear Vince’s banging in the kitchen, probably in need of some sort of help, but he was comfortable here with his son in his arms, the baby giggling as he tickled his belly and sides. No reason to get up and help Vince – he hadn’t even asked, had he?

Apparently, he hadn’t needed it anyway. Not a minute later he was at the door carrying a tray balancing two plates and two steaming cups.

“Thought you’d might like a lie-in,” Vince said when he saw he had Stuart’s attention. “Brekkie in bed, yeah?”

He brought the tray to the bed and laid it in the middle next to Stuart before quickly transferring the coffee cups to each nightstand.

It smelled delicious, really – Stuart loved Vince’s breakfasts, they always hit the spot, and to have them in bed was a rare treat. Still, he couldn’t help himself. “You’ll get crumbs on the sheets like that,” he snarked.

“Really, Stuart, crumbs are the least of my worries about your sheets,” Vince quipped back, sitting on the bed as far from Stuart as he reasonably could while still being within reach of the tray. “Just change them later; you have enough spare, changing them almost daily like you do, don’t you?”

Stuart decided not to answer, instead swiping a piece of toast from the plate closer to Vince and taking a bite. It was perfect.

“Has he eaten already?” he asked after Alfie, who was now cradled in just the arm.

“Course he has,” Vince told him. “Took care of all his needs first, then our meal. The care and feeding of the Joneses, that’s what I’m here for, yeah?”

Vince tried to pass it off as a joke, but Stuart knew him well enough to see through him. “You could have woken me,” he pointed out. “I could have taken care of him while you made breakfast. I wouldn’t have minded.”

Vince tilted his head, a small smile playing on his lips, letting Stuart know he had heard him – actually properly heard him this time, not just what he wanted to hear. “I know, Stuart. I wanted some time to think, yeah?”

“You’re always thinking, Vince,” Stuart accused between bites.

“Have to make up for you, don’t I?” Vince asked jokingly.

Stuart couldn’t help smiling at his friend, but he didn’t push the subject. Things went this well between them so rarely, he didn’t want to talk about what Vince needed to think about yet.

“I didn’t call Hazel yet,” Vince told him after a long moment of silence. “Didn’t know if you still wanted her for dinner.”

“Course I do,” Stuart said. “As long as she’s cooking.”

Vince nodded. “I’ll call her in a bit then. Let her know your expectations.”

“Good. Perfect.”

“Just –” Vince’s voice faltered, and Stuart braced himself for whatever was coming next. “Just, let’s not bring up last night yet, yeah? Not to anyone else, at least.”

Stuart sighed. He hated seeing Vince this out of his depth. “Of course we’re not telling anyone,” he said. “Not like you’ve told me anything.”

“I did. Last night,” Vince told him earnestly. “I just – let me go call Hazel, yeah?” he asked, his whole demeanor brightening up in the way that made Stuart expect him to pull a runner. “I’ll tell her to come round about five, maybe bring Alex and Bernie? It’ll be good, they’ll want to see Alfie, too.”

“Whatever you want, Vince,” Stuart said, hiding his pout behind his coffee cup.

Vince was out of the bedroom and pounding at his phone almost before Stuart finished the sentence. Stuart frowned at him through the wall in frustration.


	9. Saturday Evening

**Saturday Evening**

 

Having an infant constantly around was not nearly the imposition Stuart thought it would be, though he’d be the first to admit that that was probably because Vince was there. Truth be told, if it were up to him, Vince would always be there.

Right now, his best mate was sitting cross-legged on the carpet, Alfie set beside him, as he built a TARDIS out of oversized blocks, nattering on about an episode Alfie wouldn’t be able to understand for years ahead.

Still, the boy giggled as Vince mimicked the sounds of the TARDIS, then K-9. The two were a pair, and Stuart loved watching them as he lounged on the couch.

Yes, Vince should be here all the time, where Stuart could watch him whenever he felt the urge. Maybe Vince should move in, or they should buy that house they had always talked about.

But first things first: he had already put himself out there, and Vince was still avoiding it all.

“We’re not going to ignore this, Vince,” Stuart said abruptly, pulling Vince’s attention away from Alfie and the blocks.

“Ignore what?” Vince asked, playing the innocent.

Stuart rolled his eyes. “This…thing. Us.”

“Impatient, that’s what you are,” Vince told him decisively, moving across the floor to talk to Stuart head on.

“I’m not waiting around, Vince,” Stuart said. “I want an answer.”

“Well, you have it, don’t you?” Vince asked, that small smile playing on his lips again. “I’m breaking up with Cameron, and we’ll sort ourselves out then.”

Stuart couldn’t him smirking. He reached over to the coffee table to grab Vince’s mobile and hand it to him. “Get to it then.”

“I’m not breaking up with him by phone,” Vince said, taking the mobile and putting it back on the table. “I want to do it in person. Monday night, yeah? Before Alex’s show. I’ll meet you there.”

“Why?” Stuart asked, knowing he sounded petulant but needing to understand.

“Because,” Vince paused, searching. “Because it’s not right, Stuart. Because I need to tell him to his face, give him the keys to the mini, get everything sorted. Clean break, yeah?”

Stuart chewed on his thumb thoughtfully. “It’ll be over, then? No more Australians?”

“As long as you’re serious about this.”

“Of course I’m serious,” Stuart snarked, reaching over to cup Vince’s cheek with his hand. “Dead serious.”

He felt an unfamiliar warmth in his chest when Vince leaned into his touch. “Good. Brilliant. No more Australians.”

 Stuart couldn’t help himself; he leaned in for a snog, but Vince ducked down and out of reach.

“Please, Stuart,” Vince said before he could protest. “Just – can we wait? Just until Monday. Please?”

Seeing Vince’s worried expression, Stuart bit back a snide remark. He looked at Vince for a long moment, trying to decide what to say next.

“Are you sure, though?” Vince asked, and Stuart could see his customary worry returning to his eyes. And that Stuart’s fault, wasn’t it? Years of conditioning, that. “Me? And you? That’s what you want?”

Of course he did. Of course he was sure. Stuart reached out and grabbed Vince’s cheek again, pulling them together so their foreheads touched. “I should be so lucky,” he said gravely.

Vince’s blush was worth the confession.

“I love you, Vince,” he said, his voice still somber.

“Could take some getting used to, that,” Vince said with a smile. “Might have to hear it a few more times before it sinks in. I may need some convincing.”

“Twat,” Stuart teased.

“You know I’m the type you need to romance,” Vince said, a cheeky grin growing on his face. “Dinner and dancing, the whole bit. I’m a catch, I’ve been told.”

“Did you actually listen to them?” Stuart asked.

“Jealous?” Vince asked.

“Only if you listened. You never listen to me,” Stuart complained with a grin of his own.

Vince pursed his lips and gave Stuart a suddenly serious look. “I love you, too, Stuart,” he said for the second time that day, and Stuart’s heart still clenched at the words. “Monday. I promise.”

“Monday,” Stuart agreed.

 Vince opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by a loud yawn. Stuart took a moment to study the bags beneath his eyes and the pallor of his already fair skin.

“You didn’t sleep at all last night, did you?” Stuart asked knowingly. “You’re knackered.”

“Just a bit,” Vince told him. “I’m fine really.”

“Go take a nap,” Stuart ordered.

“But Alfie –”

“Will be just fine with me here,” Stuart told him. “I can handle an hour or two while you sleep.”

“Ta,” Vince said. He leaned in and kissed Stuart on the cheek.

Stuart looked at him through his lashes. “Go, before I decide to follow you in there.”

Vince laughed at him, but scrambled to get up and head to the bedroom nonetheless. “Are you –”

“I’m _fine,_ ” Stuart told him again.

He watched as Vince disappeared into the bedroom before getting up and joining Alfie on the floor with the blocks. After studying Vince’s TARDIS for a moment, he began construction on his own ship, though his wasn’t as suited for the angular shapes. Still, Vince would love to see a crude replica of the _Millennium Falcon_ when he woke up.

He’d never live it down if Vince knew he told Alfie the story of the ship while they built it, but there was no reason for him to ever find that out.

 

…

 

By the time Vince woke up, Hazel was already there. She must have been there for a while, because the flat smelt of beef and familiar herbs and vegetables. If the bed weren’t so big and bloody comfortable, he would have sworn he was waking up in his old room on a Sunday afternoon ten years ago.

He took his time getting up, listening to the soft cant of Stuart and Hazel talking in the kitchen. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but it was nice, being here with them close.

And if he were fully honest with himself, he also wanted to avoid Hazel for a bit. He was still processing everything Stuart had said in the past two days, and he wasn’t quite sure he was up to hiding anything from her.

There was a commotion and Vince thought he heard the buzz of the door, though he hadn’t a clue who else would be here today. Stuart wouldn’t have been daft enough to invite over one of his usual guests, not with Hazel and Alfie here.

Then Stuart was suddenly in the doorway, leaning against the frame in that lazy, sultry way of his. “Your friends are here,” he said flatly. “Time to get up, Vince.”

“Oi!” Alex called from behind him – and that answered that question. And where Alex was this weekend, Dane was probably not far behind.  “We’re you’re friends, too, shitface. Not that you deserve it!”

“Now, now, boys,” Hazel called from the kitchen, close enough to hear clearly in the small flat. “Give my boy a minute before you start your bollocking at him.”

Vince rolled over onto his back and threw one arm over his face. Why he was surprised by any of this he didn’t know, but he wasn’t at all prepared for more company. Especially not if he had to hide something like this from them.

“Uh, Stuart, could we talk for a tic? Alone?” he asked, not moving his arm.

Stuart didn’t reply, but he heard the click of the door, and a moment later the bed dipped.

“I didn’t invite them,” Vince said preemptively, lowering his hand. Better to let Stuart know before he got riled up about it.

“Of course you didn’t,” Stuart said, his voice smooth and sharp. “You’d rather be _hiding_ , wouldn’t you?”

“Stuart,” Vince packed all of his complaints into the name. He was tired of this already, and the evening hadn’t even started. He sighed and let his voice fall flat. “This is fucked, isn’t it? Sixteen years I’ve been waiting for this – for you – and now it’s just wrong. It shouldn’t be like this.”

“Sixteen years, Vince,” Stuart said softly, tracing one hand over Vince’s arm. “I’ve been here the whole time.”

 _I’m not going anywhere now._ The words hung silent but clear between them.

“Me, too,” Vince said, grabbing his mate’s hand. “Til Monday. We can do that, yeah?” He pulled Stuart’s hand up to his mouth and kissed it.

“And here I thought it was hands off,” Stuart said, an evil grin on his lips. “Vinnie, you _tease_!”

“It was just your hand,” Vince protested, feeling his cheeks warm. “You kiss my cheek all the time!”

“Yeah, when I’m pissed,” Stuart told him. His free hand went to the waistband of Vince’s jeans, playing with the buttons. “Nah, I think you’re trying to seduce me.”

“Stuart, behave!”  Vince said, pushing Stuart’s hand away. “You’ve company out there – including my mum, remember? And I still have a boyfriend to take care of.”

 Stuart pouted at the word ‘boyfriend,’ and Vince could have smacked himself for his wording. “To end things with, I mean,” he amended, tightening his grip on Stuart’s hand. “No taking care of anything else. Promise.”

“Alright, Monday, then,” Stuart agreed.

“Guess we have to go face them all, then,” Vince said, looking toward the door nervously.

That got a laugh from Stuart. “You’re such a twat,” he said, standing up and pulling Vince with him.

“Could do with a bit of fortification,” Vince said.

Stuart gave him one of those impossible, fond smiles that had become more and more frequent since Vince’s birthday. “Such a twat,” he repeated softly, curling his arms around Vince’s shoulders. Vince leaned into the hug, gripping Stuart just as tight. Vince wished he could stay there for hours, but knowing their friends they would come to bring them out sooner rather than later. He’d rather not be caught like this – not yet, anyway.

“Ta,” Vince said with a sheepish smile when they broke apart. “Best get to it then.”

“Time to keep secrets from Hazel, Vince. It’ll be just like when we were lads.”

“It better not,” Vince told him. “She could always see right through us.”

“Then you’d better hope she’s distracted by Alfie,” Stuart told him, opening the door and heading for the kitchen.

Vince could only hope he would be so lucky.

He took a deep breath and walked into the main living area of the flat. As predicted, Alex and Dane were sprawled out on one couch watching Alfie, and Hazel was in the kitchen tending to something that smelled truly heavenly. He turned to greet her first.

“Hiya, Sleeping Beauty!” Hazel said as soon as she saw Vince.

He leaned over to kiss her cheek. “Hiya, Mum. Thanks for supper.”

“Anything for my boys. Besides, I’ve gotta make sure Stuart’s behaving himself, don’t I?” she said with a wink.

“As if you could,” Stuart said with a smirk.

“Oh, don’t you try me,” Hazel said, gesturing to Stuart with a serving fork.

“Course not, Hazel,” Stuart said, putting on the charms. “How can I help?”

“You can get out of my way,” Hazel told him. She turned to Vince. “And you can drain the potatoes for the mash. Everything should be ready in a few minutes.”

“Course,” Vince said with a smile, happy to help his mother.

“What’s the news then?” Hazel asked him. “You were short on the phone yesterday.”

“Nothing really,” Vince told her, loud enough for Alex and Dane to hear. “Had lunch with Rosalie Thursday.”

“Is that the bird who came to your party?” Alex asked, coming into the kitchen, Dane in tow.

“Yeah, she’s – she’s nice, really. Understanding. I think we’ll be alright.”

“Really? No hard feelings?” Dane asked. For all he tried, it was hard to see the man as dour when he held a happy infant in his arms.

“Well, maybe some. But she’s willing to forgive, I think. She really is quite sweet.”

“Sweet, Vince?” Stuart asked mockingly.

“Oh, shut it, Stuart,” Vince said, taking care of the potatoes before Hazel could take over herself. “She knows I’m queer, thank you.”

And maybe that was a bit too harsh, because Stuart lowered his eyes guiltily.

“It’s a good thing though,” Vince continued, trying to save the mood. “It’s nice, really, not to have to lie anymore.”

 _At least not at work,_ he amended silently.

“Ohh, can we meet her then? For real, I mean,” Alex asked excitedly, and bless him his oblivious excitement. Or, more likely, bless him for knowing when to turn the conversation to a happier place.

“Could do,” Vince agreed. “I’ll invite her down to the street some time.”

“Bring her Monday,” Alex said. “Not that I think we’ll have any problem bringing in an audience, but the more the merrier!”

“It’s a bit soon, yeah?” Vince asked, storing the potatoes on the island before taking out a stack of plates and silverware. They’d have to do buffet style and sit on the couches. “I’ll ask though.”

“Oh, I hope she comes. It’s going to be just fab!” Alex crowed. “I’ve a friend – Esmeralda – who’s been performing for _decades_ and she’s just lovely. She helped me put together a full outfit, very chic. Haven’t figured out a song yet, though. Think you can come over and help me choose, Vince?”

“Yeah, could do. Tomorrow night, before I go home?” Vince

“Perfect,” Alex agreed.

“Could use a hand here,” Hazel interrupted, opening the oven.

Before Vince could move, Stuart had a couple of mitts on and was bending over to take the roast from the oven. Vince couldn’t help staring at Stuart’s arse as he bent.

“Eyes up, love,” Alex sing-songed, just low enough for Vince to hear.

Vince blushed and looked up to meet his friend’s eyes. “Sorry, was just thinking.”

“I’m sure,” Alex said. Vince hoped he was imagining things, but it seemed like Dane was smirking over his shoulder.

“Come on then, dinnertime,” Vince said, handing out plates as Stuart cut the roast.

It was nice, homey. A fleeting part of him wondered if this would be something he’d have: family dinners with Stuart, Hazel and the rest, him and Stuart playing hosts.

He pushed aside the thought. Much as he was on board to be boyfriends, that idea seemed like it would be a bit much for Stuart.

After piling it high with vegetables, meat and potatoes, Vince brought his plate to the living room and settled into one end of the loveseat. Alex, bless him, had set up five wine glasses and a nice bottle of red wine for dinner, so Vince helped himself to one of those, too, before pouring for the others.

A moment later, Stuart was beside him, seated just close enough for their legs to touch. Alex, Dane and Hazel squeezed onto the larger settee together, and Alfie was put in his playpen for the time being.

“So, I heard from Nathan,” Hazel said as she sat down.

“Really? Is he still missing?” Vince asked. “Did you phone the police?”

“Yes, and I called his mum and gave it to her. She’s dealing with it.”

“What did it say then?” Alex asked, always ready for a bit of gossip.

“Well, it didn’t have a return address or naught, just a bit of postage and a short note. He says he’ll come home if I let him stay at mine again.”

“You won’t will you?” Vince asked. “Alex is staying there, there’s no room.”

“I’m thinking about it,” Hazel said. “There’s no way that boy is safe out on the streets of London, or the friend he took with him.”

“I know, Stuart can take him!” Alex suggested. “He’s already got one infant here; no bother having a second.”

“Fuck off,” Stuart said. “Let him stay with you, Hazel. Alex can stay at Vince’s.”

“Really?” Vince asked, turning to give Stuart a warning stare. “And who are you to say? Where would I stay then? I’ve only one bedroom, remember?”

“Stay here,” Stuart suggested. “I’ve plenty of room.”

“You’re mad, you know that?” Vince said, hoping his voice sounded steadier than he felt. “You have less room than I do.”

“Also less stuff taking up space,” Dane pointed out, not at all helping.

 “Hey, now. Be nice. Just because I have a little collection or two –”

“Little?” Alex asked sarcastically.

“One or two?” Dane chimed in.

“Oh, look, he’s blushing!” Stuart said, laughing and leaning over to kiss his cheek sloppily. “It’s ok, Vince, we won’t tell anyone you’re an anorak!”

“You can sod off,” Vince said, smiling at their teasing despite himself. What was Stuart like, being affectionate like this tonight?

“Seriously, though, Vince. If the chicken comes back, can I come stay at yours?” Alex asked.

“Course you can,” Vince said. “It’s not like you’ve never stayed before.”

“I still haven’t made up my mind yet, boys,” Hazel reminded them.

“Right, Hazel. Like you could ever turn away a stray,” Alex said.

That got him a dirty look from his mother, and a round of teasing directed at her. While everyone was distracted, Stuart snaked one hand over Vince’s arm and onto his wrist. Vince shifted to grab Stuart’s hand and give it a quick squeeze before pulling away.

Just another hour or so, and they would be gone. They could get through that. And the next time he saw his friends, there wouldn’t be any more reason to hide.

 

…

 

Vince was incorrect in his assumptions. Hazel, Alex and Dane had taken hours to leave, leaving Stuart peevish for not having had Vince to himself all evening as he had planned.

After dinner, Alex and Dane at least had the sense to clean the kitchen as Hazel played with Alfie for a bit. Then they had somehow convinced Stuart to let them stay for a movie – a disgustingly heterosexual romance by Disney, even. It had been in one of the bags Romy had packed for Alfie, and once discovered Alex would not let himself be quieted until they put it in.

At least he had been able to share the settee with Vince the whole time, leaving Alex and Hazel the couch and Dane a seat on the floor. Still, a night of sitting so close to Vince without a proper cuddle was maddening.

Afterwards, Hazel had put Alfie to bed – thankfully with more skill than either Stuart or Vince possessed – and they had all finally taken their leave.

Now, Stuart was on the settee still, but Vince was not, which was just not right. Instead, his mate was storming through the flat, looking for something.

“Vince!” Stuart called. “Whatever your doing, it can wait.”

Vince came into view carrying fresh linens and a pillow. “It’s alright, Stuart. I’ve got everything I need. I’ll just set myself up here on the couch.”

“Here? Really, Vince?  What’s wrong with the bed? You liked it well enough when you were sleeping the day away.”

“You know why,” Vince said. “I told you, just until Monday. Then we’ll work things out; if you want me here, I’ll be here, yeah? You agreed.”

“I agreed not to tell anyone,” Stuart corrected him. “Not to shag, or kiss you.” He stood up and stepped into Vince’s personal space. “I didn’t agree to you sleeping on a settee not ten meters from my bed, with us alone in the flat.”

 “Stuart, be reasonable,” Vince said.

Stuart took the linens out of Vince’s hand and tossed them on the couch. “I am reasonable.”

“You’re not. You can’t – we can’t sleep together. Not until it’s over.”

Stuart frowned, but held his tongue. “Fine. I’m going to bed. At least come in for a cuddle before you sleep out here like a twat.”

Before Vince could answer, he stalked off into the loo to ready himself for bed.

He was livid as he went through the motions. How dare Vince – how dare he act like this wasn’t important, like it was something that they could just turn off? Like Stuart wasn’t important.

He careened into his room like a storm and set to work shedding his clothes and tossing them around without looking, intent on making the biggest mess he could until he was down to just his pants.

“Is that how you always undress?” Vince asked. Stuart looked up and saw him lying on the bed, already in pajamas.

“What if it is?” Stuart asked, feeling himself smirk. Yes, that’s where Vince belonged. There, in his bed.

“Don’t mind. As long as I’m not the one picking up after you.”

“When don’t you pick up after me?” Stuart asked, sliding into the bed beside Vince. Before the other man could protest, he hugged Vince close with one arm and pulled the covers over them with the other.

“I’m still not sleeping here, Stuart,” Vince told him.

 _Sure you’re not._ “It’s just a cuddle, Vince,” Stuart told him. “Relax.”

“Yeah,” Vince said. “I could do with a cuddle.” He relaxed into Stuart, nestling his head on Stuart’s shoulder.

“Well, apparently you can listen to me,” Stuart said.

“When you’re making sense,” Vince teased.

“Twat,” Stuart said. He leaned down to kiss Vince’s forehead. “My twat.”

“Guess I am,” Vince agreed, his voice thick and sleepy.

“Good,” Stuart said, wrapping his arms tighter around Vince.

He stayed there, a silent vigil over the man who would be his lover, until, despite himself, Vince slipped into sleep. It didn’t take much; Vince was as exhausted from their company as Stuart was. He probably hadn’t even realized it until he had started to doze, too.

Once he was sure Vince was asleep, he quietly pulled away and extricated himself from the bed. It was early still; he could give Sandra a call and start her on some plans. It would only take an hour or so to take care of what he needed to.

And when he came back to bed, a sleeping Vince would be waiting for him. The thought made him smile. 


	10. Sunday

**Sunday**

 

Sunday morning. Finally, after the third night together that week, Stuart woke before Vince.

Usually he would be mortified to wake up with his head on a bloke’s chest, arms curled around his waist, but this was Vince. Vince was different.

 He nuzzled under Vince’s chin with a bit more force than was absolutely necessary. It was nice to have a sleeping Vince here, but he’d rather an awake Vince to share a cuddle with.

“Mmmm, go back to sleep, Stuart,” Vince complained sleepily as he woke.

Stuart couldn’t find it in him to feel bad. He pressed one hand to the side of Vince’s face. “Wake up, Vince,” he cajoled.

“Bloody bastard,” Vince whinged, but he pulled his arms tighter around Stuart’s shoulders. “Menace.”

“Your menace,” Stuart pointed out, inordinately proud of himself, as he always was when he got his way.

“You let me fall asleep here,” Vince observed.

“Wasn’t going to kick you out, was I?” Stuart asked, being deliberately thick.

“You should have woke me,” Vince told him. “I was supposed to take the settee.”

“Didn’t want to,” Stuart said, pressing his cheek firmly into Vince’s chest.

Vince ran one hand through his curls in response.

“Next time –” Vince started, but stopped himself, then continued, his voice tinted with a touch of wonder: “Next time, I’ll plan to stay here, won’t I?”

“Give the man a prize, he’s finally figured it out,” Stuart teased, though Vince didn’t really deserve it. He had already promised to dump the Australian bastard, hadn’t he?

“I’ll take that prize Monday, thank you. With interest,” Vince said, and Stuart laughed at his cheek.

“Mmm,  I have a prize for you,” Stuart murmured, rubbing himself up against Vince suggestively.

“Not yet, Stuart,” Vince said, suddenly in panic mode again. The twat couldn’t even laugh  him away – always had to take everything so seriously. That was his Vince.

“Right, on the tab,” Stuart said, stretching out and relaxing again over Vince. His Vince.

“God, Staurt, you’re like a cat,” Vince pointed out, moving his hand back to play with his curls. “Makes sense though, doesn’t it? With you such a bastard, never letting anyone tell you what to do.”

“Fully awake then?” Stuart asked. “Already starting with the nattering?”

Vince chuckled. “Suppose I am.” He started scratching at Stuart’s scalp and Stuart promptly forgot he was supposed to be taking the piss.

“Natter away, just keep doing that,” he told his mate instead. He paused for a long moment, just basking in Vince’s warmth, before going on. “I like it, Vince, waking up with you. Could get used to it.”

“Chance’d be a fine thing,” Vince sighed.

And there he went, never listening to Stuart, just assuming the worst would happen. Always worrying. Stuart lifted his head to look Vince in the eye. “You twat. Where else would you be waking up?”

“Have to go back to mine at some point, don’t I?” Vince said.

“Why should you?” Stuart asked. He looked down at Vince’s chest, teasing patterns into the hair there with his fingers. “You could stay here instead. Let Queen Alex have the flat.”

“Stuart,” Vince sighed fondly, pushing the hair back from Stuart’s forehead. “This place is meant for a bachelor. No privacy here, nowhere for my things at all – it wouldn’t work, especially not right away.”

“Then we’ll buy a place!” Stuart argued. “In a bit, when we’re comfortable, so don’t give me that too soon bollocks. We’ve been saying we would since we were lads anyway. Let’s just do it.”

Vince didn’t respond verbally, but his smile was more than enough for Stuart. Blinding, that was, when he meant it. It made it easy to remember why he loved him.

 

…

 

After his absolutely brilliant morning with Stuart – really, this relationship was going to take some getting used to, but Vince was eager to put in the time and effort to accommodate – the day just got mad. Brunch with the lesbians when they dropped off Alfie, then a quick stop-in at Harlo’s to manage a paperwork disaster (apparently he was the only one who knew the system well enough to fix things), all followed by tea with Alex.

At least Alex was fun, if a bit too energetic. He must have had a full wardrobe of women’s wear squirreled away somewhere, because his room was an explosion of color and texture when Vince got there. He must have tried on three dozen outfits before they decided on a tasteful but flashy blue silk number with gold accents.

So, Vince was right exhausted when he walked into his flat – tired enough, even, not to realize it was unlocked.

He did, however, notice Cameron – his current _boyfriend_ , he reminded himself – sitting on the couch.

“Hiya,” he said, wondering what Cam was doing there. He certainly hadn’t been invited.

“Vince,” Cameron said shortly.

“What are you doing here, Cam?” Vince asked, deciding to get straight to the point.

“I – uh, I thought we could talk,” Cameron told him.

“It’s been a long day,” Vince told him, not sure he was really up for any conversation right now. “I was just at Alex’s, and spent the weekend with Stuart and Alfie. Not sure if I’ve the energy for aught.”

“Just talk,” Cameron told him. “And if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather talk now.”

Vince sighed and hung his jacket near the door. He crossed the room to sit in the arm chair across from Cameron. “All right. We can talk.”

“I was out at the bars tonight,” Cameron started, earning him a raised eyebrow from Vince. Cameron was known for disliking the scene; what was he doing there? “I thought, maybe I should be a bit more comfortable there, given how much you like it and all,” he explained.

“Ta,” Vince said, then waited for Cameron to go on.

“I – well, I ran into a friend of yours down there,” Cameron told him. “Gave me his condolences on our break up.”

“What?” Vince asked. And wasn’t that just his luck? Of course, no one would think he and Stuart would carry on as they were if he still had a boyfriend in the picture. Couldn’t Stuart just be patient for once?

“I’ll admit, I was surprised, too. He tried to backtrack, tell me he was confused. Apparently Stuart hasn’t been copping off? And the two of you are more affectionate than anyone remembers you being. Kissing in Babylon, even. There’s talk all over the Street, apparently.”

“I know, I know,” Cameron said. “But – well, Vince. Is something going on?”

“No,” Vince lied. “Well, not really. I mean, I haven’t done anything –”

Cameron sighed. “But you would have? If not for me?”

“I was going to tell you,” Vince told him, his voice steady, but just barely. Now or never, yeah? “I _was_. It all really just happened this weekend, didn’t it? With Stuart and all. I wanted to tell you in person though, thought we would have dinner tomorrow.” He took a deep breath as Cameron waited, watching him silently. “It’s just – Stuart. I never thought he’d actually want to settle down, be boyfriends, all that. I really didn’t want to hurt you, Cam.”

Cameron was silent for a long time. Finally, he asked, “Will he make you happy? A year from now? Five years? Ten? Or will he be shagging the entire street as you watch?”

“I don’t know,” Vince said honestly. “Have to try, don’t I? I was waiting for fifteen years.”

“Are you sure?” Cameron asked again. The lines on his face seemed more pronounced now. He seemed older, more tired.

“Think so, yeah,” Vince said. “Sorry.”

“I should have expected this,” Cameron told him. “As soon as I pushed for more, he would realize.” He smiled wanly. “You are amazing, Vince.”

“Ta,” Vince said, feeling his cheeks heat with color.

“I just wish you had told me,” Cameron continued. “I can read between the lines, Vince. I can see what it was: him picking you up from dinner with my friends, taking you to lunches, inviting you over for the weekend. You could have said.”

“Really, I didn’t know,” Vince protested. It was the truth, but he could see that Cameron wasn’t about to believe him. “I was trying to manage him, thought he was taking the piss.” He took the keys to the mini from his pocket. “Here, I wouldn’t feel right keeping these.”

Cameron stood up and took them calmly. “Thank you, Vince. For everything.” He leaned down and kissed Vince chastely on the cheek. “I still love you, you know. If Stuart ever breaks your heart, give me a ring.”

“Will do,” Vince said, knowing he never would. Even if things didn’t work between him and Stuart, Cameron Roberts would not be the one he called.

“I’ll see you around then,” Cameron said, walking slowly toward the door.

“See ya,” Vince said, not looking up.

A moment later, the door closed behind his ex-boyfriend. Vince exhaled and dropped his head into his hands.

Bloody Cameron Roberts, always had to be in charge, didn’t he?

He looked longingly at his liquor cabinet, but decided against making himself a drink just yet. He hadn’t expected that to be so easy – but nor had he expected the conversation to weigh so heavily on him once it was over. He’d need at least one drink before the night was up.

But first, he took out his phone and thumbed the buttons for his first speed dial.

It only rang once before it was picked up.

“Couldn’t stay away?” Stuart asked, purring into the phone lines.

“Thought you should know, Cameron was here. We’ve broken up,” he said, trying unsuccessfully to keep the exhaustion and guilt out of his voice.

“Vinnie! That’s great! Excellent! Come over then and celebrate!”

“Not much up for celebrations,” Vince told Stuart. “I think I’m going to bed, really. Early day tomorrow.”

“Vince you twat, call off, come here instead.”

“I really can’t, Stuart,” Vince said. And he couldn’t. Couldn’t go anywhere, or really think much of anything. Did Cameron really have to be so _reasonable_ about everything? It would have been so much easier if he had been a bastard about it.

He really couldn’t wait to make himself that drink.

“Fine,” Stuart said. And there it was: a pissy Stuart for Vince to reap the consequences of later. “And you call me stubborn.”

Vince would have laughed at that, if he were in the mood for laughter. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

He should have known better than to expect an answer. Stuart had already hung up.

He stood up and walked into the kitchen, grabbing the good gin from his cabinet and tonic from the fridge. He deserved the good stuff tonight.

Drink in hand, he laid himself out on the couch and started flipping through channels on the telly. He was too lazy to actually put anything in the VCR, though there was nothing on.

 Similarly, he had been starving before he returned to the flat, but at the moment he couldn’t be arsed to make anything, never mind eat it.

He finally settled on an American made-for-TV science fiction movie about an improbable apocalyptic threat, with a supposedly even more improbable hero. Much as he would like to lose himself in the fantastic world, he found himself paying much more attention to his glass than the images on the screen.

Not that he hadn’t been expecting this – he had been ready to dump Cameron tomorrow, hadn’t he? – but this seemed sudden. Wrong. He was supposed to think the conversation over, find the right words, the way Cam deserved.

He was just getting up to make himself another, and maybe find some crisps to appease his grumbling stomach when he heard the door open.

“Vince?”

“I told you I’m not up to anything, Stuart,” he said. Still, he pulled down another glass from a cabinet.

“I’m not here for anything, then,” Stuart told him, walking into the kitchen. He smoothly put two brown paper bags down on the counter before taking the glasses and gin from Vince’s hands. The glasses promptly went into the sink and the gin went into the liquor cabinet. Before Vince could protest, he had out two bottles of water and two plates.

“What are you here for then?”

“Quiet night. Curry. Will Smith fighting aliens, unless you insist on the crap on the telly. Maybe a cuddle,” Stuart told him as he started to pile both plates high with take out.

“Who are you and what have you done with my Stuart?” Vince asked suspiciously. He had seen Stuart like this before, but only a handful of times, and only when Vince was seriously hurt or troubled.

 Stuart stopped in front of Vince and put his hands on his biceps, trapping him against the counter in what was becoming a very familiar move. For a long moment, he looked at Vince, clearly trying to figure out how to respond. Eventually he found the words.

“You are an idiot, Vince. I know you’ve been listening to that little old lady nattering in your head, and you’re twisting yourself up about this whole Cameron thing. I’m here to make you stop, to feed you curry and make sure you don’t get too blindingly drunk. And then, when you’re feeling better – tomorrow, or tonight or next week – I’m going to fuck you blind.”

“Stuart!”

Stuart smirked. “Could start now if you’re going to call my name like that.”

Vince couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his lips. “All right, then. Curry. And put what you like on the telly; I wasn’t watching it, really.”

Stuart’s smirk turned into a real smile, and he bent his head to kiss Vince’s cheek gently. “Good. Get the curry.”

He pulled away, picked up the bottles of water and made his way to the living room. For a moment, it was all Vince could do to just watch him.

Because he had Stuart here, ready to sleep with him whenever he wanted, but willing to watch science fiction and wait. Until Vince was good for it.

What alternate dimension had he stepped into?

He gathered up their plates and followed Stuart.

Once the movie was in the VCR, they arranged themselves close together on the couch, Stuart sitting sideways with his legs stretched out over Vince’s lap, both of their plates held over Stuart’s legs. The simple comfort of sitting close and watching a movie with his best mate calmed Vince’s mind and let him concentrate on his food.

Although they had both seen the movie several times already, they watched in silence until both had finished their meals. It was companionable, comfortable – something Vince had never honestly had with Cameron.

The thought made Vince bite his lip, suddenly guilty all over again. And yet, what else could he have done?

Stuart must have noticed, because he broke the silence. “I won’t apologize, Vince. Neither should you.”

“I don’t expect you to, do I? I know you well enough for that, Stuart,” Vince said.

“It’s his fault. He should have known you were mine.” Stuart pushed Vince’s legs beneath him, arranging them so Vince was lying on the couch, his head on Stuart’s chest.

“Course he should have. Should have tipped him off when you postured as my secretary, connecting us for our first date,” Vince said sarcastically. There was no bite to it though, especially because he was letting Stuart push him around like an oversized doll.

“It was just supposed to be a date, Vince.”

“I don’t suppose we were supposed to know that, were we?”

“You were. You always know.”

Vince laughed, running his hand over Stuart’s stomach and thighs. “Sometimes I think I’d like to know just what goes on in that head of yours, but then I think, the world wouldn’t be half as interesting if I did. Stuart Jones, king of the world, always dictating rules we mortals will never understand.”

“Twat.”

“Must be. Love you, don’t I?”

 Stuart smiled at that, and then kissed the top of Vince’s head. “Good.”

Vince smiled and rubbed his head against Stuart’s chest. “It’s just – I don’t know if I feel guilty about the way it happened, or about not feeling bad about breaking up at all.”

“What happened, exactly? You didn’t say on the phone.”

“It was someone down on the street. Apparently, they’ve noticed things have changed, and they all think we broke up already, Cameron and me. It’s all over the street we’re together, apparently.  Someone gave Cam their condolences over it all, and he put two and two together.”

“Who was it? I’ll –”

“It wasn’t their fault, Stuart, and I don’t know anyroad,” Vince said before Stuart could get into a rage. “It’s not like we were subtle. And it’s nothing I wasn’t going to take care of anyway.”

Without looking up, he could feel Stuart pout. He swore the bastard looked for reasons to get upset at times, and got disappointed when he didn’t have anything to fight.

“At least it’s over,” he continued softly.

“And you’re mine now?” Stuart asked. “Us against the world, Vince? Are we ready?”

“I’ve been ready,” Vince told him. He lifted his head to look up at Stuart’s face. “Are you?”

“Think so,” Stuart said, and Vince could see his hesitation in his eyes. “I want to. Really. No more Camerons or Nathans, no more shags or boyfriends or any of the rest. Just us, Vince.”

Vince smiled. “Just us,” he agreed.

He wasn’t sure if he should, it he was ready or not, but part of him felt he didn’t have a choice. Sometimes, a bloke just has to follow his instincts.

He shifted himself up and moved in to kiss Stuart on the lips. It wasn’t their first kiss, certainly, but it was their first sober one and their first as boyfriends.

He kept it light, more interested in showing Stuart the depth of his feeling than teasing him with things to come. Stuart was the one to deepen it, using hands and lips to pull Vince into him hungrily.

“Vince,” Stuart panted when they finally broke apart. “Love you.”

“You, too, Stuart,” Vince said, burying his nose in his mate’s neck. “Always have.”

Stuart wrapped his arms around Vince, not asking for anything more yet, but certainly not platonic.

Vince relaxed into him. He was glad Stuart was giving him time – he really didn’t have the emotional energy left for any more than this tonight – but he was also glad Stuart was here. Boyfriends, lovers, partners – it didn’t matter that they weren’t shagging yet. Stuart was his best mate, always had been, and now he was so much more.

And who knew what tomorrow would bring?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it! Aside from an epilogue, the story's finally over. 5 years later.


	11. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay! I had SO much trouble writing it. It just didn’t want to do what I asked. Originally, it was supposed to be x-rated, but that just didn’t seem right (and I have enough of that floating around here and at Across the Pond). So here’s some fluff instead. Enjoy!

**Monday Night**

 

For all that Stuart had become affectionate, loving even, when alone, Vince didn’t know what to expect Monday night. A show, maybe? This was Stuart, after all. Or possibly nothing would change; Stuart often didn’t think his life was anyone’s business but his own.

It nagged at him all through work, how he should act, what Stuart would expect. Eventually, he had to put it out of his mind or drive himself mad.

He made it to the pub just before the show – almost late, actually, but it was just the emcee up there, and no one really cared about the introductions. He found the large booth where Stuart, Hazel, Dane and Bernie had set themselves up, and slipped in as unobtrusively as he could beside Stuart. Alex was about to perform, so he just smiled a quick hello before turning away from them and toward the stage.

Stuart put his arms around his waist immediately, pressing himself against Vince’s back and resting his chin on Vince’s shoulder. Soft lips teased his neck in greeting.

Vince smiled, putting his hands over Stuart’s near his stomach. So. No secrets, then.

Alex commanded their attention as soon as she came on the stage, bright silks and risqué dance charming the crowd. Of course the diva chose Cher for his solo song. And he stole the show in the finale: a chorus rendition of “I’m Coming Out.”

Vince loved it. He knew it was camp, and everything the world seemed to judge his community about, and he’d never tell Stuart, but he couldn’t help himself. He’d never been attracted to the drag queens per say, but he couldn’t get enough of their brazen, flamboyant performances. It made him proud to be queer, and not a bit sorry for the folks who would never understand. It was something he and Alex had bonded over a long time ago.

Through it all, Stuart’s arms were around him, and he could feel Stuart’s smile against his neck.

Was this his new reality?

As the curtain closed, he turned to kiss Stuart properly, ignoring his mother and friends for the moment, even as they started shrieking at him.

Finally, his mother’s shrill excitement broke through their moment. “Stuart Alan Jones, what exactly are you doing with my Vince?”

“Now, do you really want the details, Hazel?” Stuart asked innocently, turning back to the group. He kept one hand on Vince’s knee, though, and Vince wrapped an arm around his waist.

“Well, I do!” Bernie piped in, earning himself a glare from the rest.

“Dream on,” Stuart shot back. 

“About damn time,” Dane said, nodding at them. “I thought we’d die of old age before we saw you two together.”

“Oi, and what’s this? You two stealing my show?” Alex came up behind them, still in full drag, and a smile on his face despite his accusations.

“Course we are. What do you expect from Stuart?” Vince teased.

And just like that, they were a couple, public and private. No more dancing around each other or sneaking around because of an inconvenient boyfriend.

Vince agreed with Dane: he never thought he’d see the day. But as Stuart leaned in for a messy snog in front of their family and friends, he was glad he did.

**Author's Note:**

> I started this in March of 2008, and posted the prologue and first chapter over at Across the Pond (http://qaf-fic.com/atp/viewstory.php?sid=9086). I just picked it up again, with every intention to actually finish it this time around. :)


End file.
